#but i managed to hit the 47 word mark right away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-iceni-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!spy!Reader

Words: Mobile again ☹️

Summary: You almost miss your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, but you have a plan to make it up to him.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex(f receiving), salad tossing, unprotected anal sex, use of butt plug), violence (standard canon stuff), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Happy V-Day y’all! Here’s the next entry in my Holidays With Bucky series (with so Sam sprinkled in) and it’s a fun one! Unfortunately, the power is out at my place right now due to snow and because my city sucks at preparations I’m probably not going to have power until at least Monday, so we’ll see if I’m able to deliver on my other promised Valentine’s treats for you all.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Bucky hated clubs so much.

The loud music, the overcrowding, the overpriced drinks. He was absolutely miserable.

It didn’t help that Sam was bouncing around like an idiot, enjoying the atmosphere with a stupid grin on his face. Would it kill the man to act like a professional for once?

They’d followed the target to the Cross Club here in Prague after four days of surveillance with nothing to show for it, and now they were watching him talk to some new player in a VIP booth. God he hoped this would be over soon.

“What?” Buck shouted over the music. Sam had said something, but even with his super soldier hearing, he couldn’t make it out over the thumping bass.

“I said, is Y/N pissed you’re missing Valentines Day?” Sam yelled, his hips still moving in time to the music.

Bucky did some quick mental math and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t seen you in almost 3 weeks. You had to head back to the States for some stupid debrief with Sharon and the big bosses while he and Sam kept chasing leads on Zemo here in Europe. He hadn’t even realized it was Valentines Day.

“Shit, he’s moving.” Sam said, tapping Buck on the shoulder as the mark stood up and moved towards the dance floor.

“Fuck, can’t we go around?” Bucky whined, starting to follow after Sam towards the crowd.

“Y’know, when your girlfriend’s not around, you’re such an old man.” Sam teased. “We don’t wanna lose him, so pull the stick out of your ass and try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Buck just rolled his eyes and trailed after him, doing his best to avoid the writhing, sweaty bodies that kept trying to grind against him. Sam was right, it was a lot easier to enjoy these types of ops when you were with him.

He didn’t know how they managed to keep eyes on the target as he moved through the crowd, but they saw him head out one of the exits and were following after him within a few minutes.

“Hey, Wilson? Where the fuck is he?” Buck hissed as he opened the door to an empty alley.

“Shit, hold on, let me pull up Redwing.”

“I still can’t believe you named that fucking thing.” Buck said exasperatedly.

Sam didn’t have a chance to reply before a motorcycle ripped past the two of them.

“Was that him?” Bucky yelled as he whipped his head after it. “Motherfucker!”

“Calm down, I got it.” Sam said, summoning his wings.

“Oh, I guess I’ll just run after him then? I told you we should’ve brought a car!”

“I could carry you.” Sam said teasingly, giving Bucky a stupid grin.

“Oh fuck you.” Buck said, flipping Sam off as he chuckled at him. “Shit!”

The two of them dove out of the way as a Lexus tore into the alley, stopping just short of hitting them.

“Hey assholes! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!” You shouted as you rolled down the window, a massive grin splitting your face.

“Baby!? What’re you doing here?!?” Bucky asked, beaming back at you.

“I had to get the fuck out of D.C. There was no way I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day! Besides, I missed the field! Now get in, I managed to tag his bike but I don’t want him to get out of range.”

“Shotgun!” Sam called with a grin on his face, making you laugh.

“What?!? Fuck you Wilson! You’re gonna make me sit in the back when this is the first time I’ve seen my girl in weeks?” Bucky said in disbelief.

“Sorry Barnes, you should’ve called it!”

“Yeah babe, you really should’ve called it.” You teased as he crawled into the back of the vehicle with a scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.” He pouted at you as Sam climbed after him, bringing the back of his seat up to crash against Buck’s knees.

“There’s no sides, honey, it’s shotgun rules.” You said as you peeled out of the alleyway.

“Whatever, could you move your seat up Wilson?”

“Nope.” Sam said grinning over his shoulder before cursing under his breath and bracing one hand against the ceiling as you swerved around a slow moving van. “Jesus, Y/N! Maybe take it a little slower, we’re still in the city.”

You just snorted before taking a sharp turn at an inadvisable speed, barely tapping on the brakes and sending Bucky sliding across the backseat.

“Put your seatbelts on, idiots.” You scolded as the two of them tried to find something to grab onto.

“Honey, pedestrian, pedestrian, Pedestrian!!!” Buck screamed as he buckled himself in, screwing his eyes closed.

“Yeah, I see them.” You said as you took another turn at the last second, barely missing the man who was crossing the street.

“Oh my god! This is how I’m going to die.” Sam said, his knuckles white on the dashboard as you flew up a hill, the car actually suspending in midair for a beat before crashing back to the street with a jolt. “Stuck in a car with a crazy woman and her 100 year old boyfriend.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic.” You said with an eye roll, glancing at him sideways. “It’s like you’ve never been in a high speed chase before.”

“Eyes on the road!” Bucky shouted at you as an unsuspecting couple started to step off the curb directly into your path.

You hopped onto the walkway behind them to avoid the brake lights in front of you and your two passengers started letting out a steady stream of curses as you weaved between pedestrians and carts.

“Just relax you two, we’ve almost got him.” You said exasperatedly, somehow speeding up even more.

You rounded another corner and the bike popped into view, speeding out of the city at a breakneck speed.

“Shit, gun!” Sam screamed as the biker turned around, hefting an AK-47 and pointing it directly at the windshield.

He and Bucky ducked, hands covering their heads. They flinched as they heard a series of pops, then straightened up slowly when they realized the windshield was still intact.

“Yeah, it’s bulletproof.” You said with a grin as you kept the car steady with one hand, reaching under your seat to grab something. You handed a giant pistol to Sam. “There should be a rifle under the backseat, baby.”

“And what exactly do you want us to do with these?” Sam asked warily as Bucky drew out the rifle and nodded appreciatively.

“Shoot at him.” You said, following the bike around a sharp turn that had the boys bracing themselves.

“Fuck that! If you think I’m sticking half my body out of a window while you’re driving like this you’re insane!” Sam said in disbelief. “Besides the car is bulletproof.

“Yeah, well the tires aren’t, and if he hits one of those while I’m driving this fast, we’re all gonna get shredded.”

Bucky shook his head before rolling down his window and pulling his upper body out of the car, bringing the rifle up to return fire.

“You are both fucking crazy!” Sam said, rolling his own window down and shoving his shoulders out, bringing up his pistol.

The biker turned his focus to Bucky while Sam covered him, and you took the opportunity to speed up.

“What’re you doing, babe?” Bucky shouted into the car as you started to get closer to the bike.

“I’m gonna ram him.” You yelled back. “Keep covering me!”

“Umm, isn’t he supposed to lead us to Zemo? Shit!” Sam yelled, a bullet whizzing by his ear.

“I don’t think he’s leading us anywhere Sammy.”

“Well, we could still get information out of him!”

“Yeah, these guys have proven to be pretty impervious to interrogations, Wilson.” Buck said, gripping the roof of the car with his vibranium hand as you followed the bike around another curve.

“I really just need his phone!” You yelled as you closed the distance even further, now only 25 feet from the back tire of the bike. “You might want to get back inside.”

Sam yanked his upper body back into the vehicle with a curse and Buck slid back inside easily as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor. You hit the bike in a few seconds and sent it and the rider rolling over the car with a thud. As soon as it was clear you slammed on the brakes, sending the vehicle spinning out.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod....” Sam was screaming as the car whipped around over and over, his eyes screwed shut and his hand braced against the roof of the vehicle while his foot braced against the dashboard.

Bucky just clenched his jaw and ripped his vibranium fingers through the back door to hold himself in place, shaking his head at Wilson.

The vehicle finally came to a stop about 200 feet away from where the bike had crashed. Sam wrenched his door open and dove out of the car, bending over and vomiting at the side of the road.

“You ok there Sammy?” You asked, rising from the driver’s seat gracefully and looking at your friend with concern as Bucky almost climbed over the front seat with a wince and joined you.

“Oh, what are you wearing?” He groaned as he finally got a good look at you. “Are you trying to kill me?”

It was a skin tight, patent leather pink dress that was pushing your tits together and up in an absolutely delicious way. The skirt barely covered your ass and he was sure there was no way you could bend over in it without flashing whoever was nearby.

“I told you, baby, it’s Valentines Day.” You sad with a grin as you stepped closer to him.

He moved to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away at the last second, moving back towards where the bike crashed with a light laugh as he let out a frustrated huff.

“What is wrong with you two?!” Sam said as he started to follow after you. “Your girlfriend almost kills me and all you want to do is jump her as soon as it’s over.”

“I mean, did you see that dress?” Bucky said teasingly as he joined your friend, walking a little faster to catch up with you.

“Got the phone!!” You said triumphantly as you straightened back up from your inspection of the dead body. “And it’s still in ok shape! I’m gonna call this in real quick and then we can head back.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere if you’re driving!” Sam said, shaking his head vehemently. “Gimme the keys.”

“C’mon Sammy!” You said with an eye roll.

“You do not get to call me Sammy right now, you psycho!” He said, snatching the keys out of your outstretched hand as you laughed at him. “And neither of you gets to sit shotgun! You sit in the back and think about what you’ve done.”

“Jesus, fine dad.” You said as you slid into the back seat, Bucky chuckling as he slid in after you and slammed the door closed.

Sam pulled the car forward a few feet, turning the wheel sharply before throwing it in reverse and spinning it in the opposite direction as he backed up.

“Uh, Sammy?” You said as he repeated the process. “Maybe just crank the wheel all the way and pull a little further forward?”

“Yeah, it’s not called a 13 point turn, Wilson.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up!! I’m not taking driving advice from you!” He shouted over his shoulder as he did the exact same thing and you lost it, laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god, there’s like 15 feet of road that you’re not using!” You said breathlessly as you cracked up Bucky grinning as he watched you fold over in laughter.

“I cannot believe the shit I have to put up with.” He muttered as he finally straightened out the vehicle and drove back towards the city, doing his best to ignore your dying laughter.

Bucky was beaming at you as you settled down, leaning back against the seat as you wiped tears from your eyes. You smiled back at him and gave him a wink.

“Did I tell you how much I love that dress?” He said as he scooted closer to you, his eyes raking over your chest before sinking lower to gaze at your thighs.

“No.” You said teasingly, biting your lip at him and leaning towards him just a little bit.

“Cuz I fucking love that dress.” He growled at you as he wrapped his hands around your waist and drew you closer, nuzzling himself into your neck.

You gave a soft sigh as he ran his teeth over your throat, flinging one leg over his lap as he moved his vibranium hand from your waist to cup your ass. He moved his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw as he pressed you into him.

“Shit, Bucky.” You moaned as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands running over your thighs to tuck under your skirt as he sucked a bruise against your neck. “I swear to god, if you ruin this dress...”

“Oh, what the fuck guys?!” Sam said as he peeked at you through the rear view mirror. “I’m two feet away from you! It’s like you’re a couple of teenagers.”

“Sorry Sammy!” You whined before letting out a gasp as Bucky nuzzled himself between your tits at the same time he bucked his hips up into you, grinding his hardening cock against you.

“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this shit.” Sam groaned as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel and jolted it to a halt. “I cannot believe I have to put up with you horny idiots.”

“Bye Sam!” You called after him as he slammed the door closed, waving a dismissive hand at you as he started to head back to his room. “Mmm, Bucky!”

He drew the straps of your dress down over your arms and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples as you arched your back into his face.

“Jesus Christ, I fucking missed you.” He groaned before moving his mouth up to yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he laid you down across the backseat.

“Yeah? What’d you miss baby?” You murmured against his lips, wrapping your legs around him and ripping his shirt over his head.

“Missed the way you smell.” He murmured against your neck as he nuzzled into your hair. “Missed these fucking perfect tits and how well they fit in my hands.” He whispered into your ear as he brought his hands up to palm your breasts, making you whine.

“Fuck, baby. You’re making me so wet.” You said breathlessly as a fresh rush of arousal leaked out of you, your fingers moving to work at undoing his fly.

“Good.” He growled against your collarbone as his he dipped one hand under your ass and pressed you into his hard on. “Cuz I missed that pussy the fucking most.”

“Shit.” You hissed as his vibranium hand ripped off your panties in one quick motion before his hands moved to shove your dress up around your waist. “Don’t you dare fucking rip this dress, Barnes!”

“I’m being careful.” He said with a chuckle before lining himself up. He teased his tip against your entrance before slowly sinking into you, grinning as he watched your eyes roll back in your skull as your lids fluttered, a moan escaping from your lips.

He drew himself out halfway, really taking his time as he felt himself drag against every inch of the warm channel between your legs, then slammed his hips forward with enough force that you had to brace your hand against the door to keep your head from cracking against it. You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming as you came immediately, your back arching up off the seat as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you miss me too?” Bucky said with a grin as he kept fucking into you, watching your chest heave as you started to come down from your first orgasm. He hooked one hand under your knee and drew it up to your waist, spreading you apart even further.

“Shit, yes!” You moaned as his dick thrust even deeper into you, hitting a new spot that had you seeing stars. “Missed this cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah? You miss feeling me in this tight little pussy?” He said as he felt you clench around him, your hips meeting his thrusts desperately.

“Fuck, Bucky! My pussy needs you so bad. Need your big cock inside me all the time.” You let out a gasp as he brought his vibranium hand between the two of you to strum at your clit. You wrapped your hand around his wrist to keep him in place as you tossed your head back. “Need to feel you stretch me and split me open, baby.”

“Jesus, keep talking.” He murmured as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he started moving his hips even faster. “Love hearing you use that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Yeah, babe? You wanna hear me talk about how much this pussy needs your big cock?” Your grinned when he let out a groan against your neck. “My pussy would get so fucking wet every time I thought about that dick. Nobody fucks me like you do. Oh god, right there!”

“Damn, honey. You’re squeezing me so good. You gonna cum again?”

You just nodded before a sob ripped through your chest, your knuckles turning white as your grip on his vibranium wrist tightening and a wave a pleasure crashed over you. Your legs squeezed his hips as you thumped your fist against the door, your torso rolling underneath Bucky as your cunt clamped down on him, making him twitch.

You felt his hips stuttering as you writhed underneath him, and with just a few thrusts he was filling you up, panting against your neck as he sank on top of you, pressing his full weight into you as he came down.

“Oh my god, happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He moaned into your hair.

“Shit, I still need to give you your present, baby!!” You said with a grin as you ran your hands over his shoulders.

“I don’t need a present, sweetheart.” He said lazily before peppering soft kisses over your throat.

“Oh, I really think you’re gonna want to open this one.” You sighed, wriggling a little underneath him.

You grabbed his flesh hand and drew it between your legs slowly, dragging it over your sex until his fingers brushed against the jewel that was nestled between your ass cheeks. He sat up with a jolt when he realized what you were suggesting, making you laugh excitedly as he gave you a massive grin.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this.” He said as he flipped you over, smacking your ass as you giggled at him. He spread your cheeks apart and groaned when he got a look at the pink jewel of the plug you had inserted earlier in the day.

He gripped the plug and drew it out of you slowly, biting his lower lip as he watched you pussy clench at the sensation. His breath came out in a hiss once it was free, your pretty hole gaping and fluttering at the loss as you moaned underneath him, pressing your ass back into his palms.

“Fuck, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was yanking your hips back and up, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. You let out a shriek when he ran his tongue over your cunt in a heavy stripe before dragging the flat of the thick muscle over your asshole.

“Fuck, oh my god!” You screamed, trying to find something to brace yourself against as he ran the tip of his tongue around your rim, teasing you and making both of your holes throb with need.

He kept teasing you with his tongue for what felt like hours, alternating between heavy drags that ran over your entire sex and tiny kitten licks that were turning you into a begging, whimpering mess, a steady stream of slick leaking out of your swollen pussy.

“Gotta make sure you’re good and ready for me, gorgeous.” He murmured, giving you a momentary reprieve before he shoved his tongue inside your puckered hole.

The sound you made was otherworldly, halfway between a moan and a cry. He almost came just from the pure wantonness of it, and he felt his cock twitching against your chest as he started to tongue-fuck you. You pressed your cheek to the leather of the seat as he took you apart, mewling like an idiot as he stretched you open, his thick muscle probing you as deep as he could.

“Bucky...” you mumbled before another orgasm shook you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as a wave of bliss traveled up your spine from deep in your core and making you whine as drool leaked from the corner of your mouth.

He pulled his face away from you suddenly and unwrapped his arms from around your thighs. Your muscles were jelly as he lowered your hips, your eyelids drooping as you moaned at the loss of him. Once he finally had you laid back down, he took a second to gaze at you.

He loved how fucked out you got. Your limbs were splayed out at random angles as your back rose and fell with deep breaths, the curves of your breasts just peeking out from where they were pressed against the seat. He brushed your hair away from your face to see you grinning up at him, your cheeks streaked with tears and mascara and your lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin as you looked at him with lust blown pupils.

“We’re still not done.” He said softly before wrapping his hand around your throat and yanking you up until your back was flush against his chest, making you gasp. He brought his other hand between you to wrap around his cock and dragged it through the slick that had soaked your ruined pussy before teasing his tip against the rim of your tightest hole. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer before shoving his hips forward and spearing into you. Your body tried to jolt forward at the intrusion but his palm on your throat kept you in place, holding you still as he bottomed out.

“Jesus Christ, you feel amazing.” He muttered into your hair, his fingers vibrating over your throat as you let out a whine.

He pressed down against your jugular as he started to move his hips, dragging in and out of you at a deliciously slow pace that had you keening. You were losing yourself in the new sensation of having him fill your tightest channel, his thick cock stretching you more than you’d ever been before. Your head dropped back on his shoulder as he started to move faster, the slick leaking from your pussy making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

“Fuck, I love your body. You treat me so good baby.” He murmured against the shell of your ear. “Wanna fill all your your pretty holes and pump you full of my cum. Wish I could be inside you all the time, pretty girl.”

Your pussy was fluttering around nothing as his soft praises filled your ears, and when he dropped his hand to the apex of your thighs you almost came immediately with a cry.

“You didn’t think I forgot about this pretty pussy, did you baby?” He whispered as his metal fingers spread you apart, teasing over your entrance as his flesh hand increased the pressure on your airway and his hips picked up the pace. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while my cock’s in your ass, honey?”

“Fuck, Bucky, I want you to spank it.” You moaned as he continued to tease you, your brain starting to shut down as the mixture of sensations overwhelmed you.

He let out a feral growl against the curve of your neck before wrapping his lips around your earlobe. “Shit, you gonna cum if I spank it?” He hissed in your ear as he kept his fingers running over your sex.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fucking cum! Need you to spank my pussy, Bucky, please.”

His teeth nipped at the hollow behind your ear at the same time he smacked your cunt and you let out a shriek as your body vibrated against him. Your thighs quivered with strain as your pussy spasmed uncontrollably, your asshole strangling Bucky’s cock as you shook in your bliss, his hand around your neck the only thing keeping you upright.

“Fuuuuck.” He hissed against your neck as his hips chased his own release. “I wanna fuck all your holes while I cum, sweetheart, get ready.”

You only had a second before he was shoving three fingers into your pussy at the same time he put two fingers in your mouth, choking you as he shoved them down your throat before you were able to relax. He groaned when you started sucking on him, swirling your tongue around his digits while his vibranium fingers curled inside of you against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull.

He felt you clench around him everywhere and let out a groan into your hair, his cock twitching inside you as you both neared your ends.

He ground his palm against your clit and you were finished, sobbing around his fingers as you squirted your release all over his hands, his thighs, and the seat in what was the biggest orgasm of your life. Your body tried to lift itself off the seat as you came, your vision whiting out as your muscles stopped working and Bucky let you collapse forward as he finished.

Another few thrusts of his stuttering hips and he let out a wordless roar as he came inside you, filling you completely with his spend until it was leaking out around his cock. He collapsed on top of you as his body rolled on a wave of pleasure, his breath hitching in his chest.

The two of you laid there tangled with each other for what felt like hours. You were so utterly spent that the passage of time no longer held any meaning, and you completely forgot where you were.

“Holy fuck.” Bucky muttered after a while, still unable to move anything except his face, which he nuzzled into your hair.

“Yeah.” You muttered into the seat cushions, your brain finally resetting.

“I mean, holy fuck.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah.” You said again, wiggling your toes look experimentally as your body started to come back down.

“I’ve never cum that hard before in my life.” He muttered as he drew his hands over your arms until they were pressing into your shoulders, moving your hair aside so he could pepper kisses all over your neck.

“Me either.” You whispered, turning your head over your shoulder so you could press your lips to his softly.

He pulled away once he was able, giving you a sloppy grin as he managed to sit up, pulling out of you gingerly and groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you. You twisted until you were able to sit up yourself, leaning back against the car door as you beamed back at him.

“Best fucking Valentine’s Day ever.” He muttered, drawing you onto his lap to kiss you deeply, and wondering if it would be too tacky to tell you he loved you after the first time you let him fuck your ass.

Tags!!!!!

@buckysnumberonegirl @slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @harrysthiccthighss @quxxnxfhxll @bonkywobble @chrisevanscardigan @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @fistmebuckyskywalker @wandering-spiritash @khadineberry @muzzyandbusy @slytheriin2002 @isysen @WanderingAlice00 @kaleeelizabeth58 @tlcwrites @angrybirdcr @unsaltedalmonds @amerikakapitanyy @lizette50 @daughterofthenight117 @obsessivereaderchick @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares @msmarvelwrites

774 notes · View notes

anxious-little-faicye · 4 years ago

Text

CAMP UNUS ANNUS SAFETY RULES!

Rule #1 - Always remember the BS (Buddy System).

Rule #2 - When confronted by a bear (depending on the type of bear), confront it back and make lots of noises. But keep in mind, only do that for Black Bears.

Rule #3 - Bears can't get through the polyurethane of a tent. Plastic repels nature, since it's not of this world.

Rule #4 - The forest doesn't give a damn about you. Arrogance will get you nowhere.

Rule #5 - If you're stuck in a tree alone and two people happen to come across you, they are buddies. Don't just assume because another human life is nearby that they're obligated to help you.

Rule #6 - You help those in need though.

Rule #7 - Communication is key.

Rule #8 - Look, scan, observe, react, run.

How to survive a bear attack:

Rule #9 / Step Number 1 - Evaluate, determine which type of bear it is that it's attacking you.

Rule #10 - If the bear grunts twice it's a Grizzly, if it grunts three times then it's a Polar Bear.

Rule #11 - When dealing with Polar Bears, the biggest thing you want to do is make sure that you're covered head to doe, with as much armor as possible (sleeping bags work just fine).

Rule #12 / Step Number 2 - Try to maintain silence, maybe it'll go away on it's own.

Rule #13 / Step Number 3 - If step 2 fails, abandon all coverage plans, because clearly it's not going to work. However, you don't need to worry, because your tent is safe as long as the bear doesn't claim it as it's own by attracting other bears as competition.

Rule #14 - It is very important that when you go shopping for your tent (or you're finding your tent), you get one that's strong, triple layer made of the highest quality material.

Rule #15 - If the bear attacks with a gun, make sure you cover all of the important parts of your body. The smaller the target the harder it is for a bear to get you.

Rule #16 / Step Number 4 - This is an emergency step, you would never do this unless you were in a extremely dangerous situation... just run. With the help of your buddy (don't forget the buddy system!) you will roll the tent from the inside away from the bear.

Rule #17 - It's important to remember where your tent was when you pitched it.

Rule #18 - At this point the bear should be very intimidated by your skill and athleticism. It may think you and your buddy are now one large creature.

Rule #??? - RAGE, rage against the dying of the light...

Rule #19 - After all that escaping protocol, the bear should be gone by now. But in the case that it's not, just keep going rolling away in the tent.

Rule #20 - Bears are afraid of the sunlight, they can't handle it's intense heat.

Rule #21 / Step Number 5 - And finally, to escape the tent, you have to find it's weakest point and destroy it.

Rule #22 - Nature it's a dangerous place filled with evil, horrible monstrosities that are beautiful in their own way.

How to safely bury your friend:

Rule #23 - Carcasses can attract bears and other wildlife that are opportunistic scavenges.

Rule #24 - For this process you're going to need a shovel and a buddy.

Rule #25 - Don't forget the Buddy System (B.S) or you will DIE.

Rule #26 - The first thing you're going to do is search the area for a proper place for a burial. You want a place with some soft dirt, plenty of open space, and not too near to the campsite.

Rule #27 - Dig six feet down (at the least), so you can put their feet first, then head at the top.

Rule #28 - Your dead body will grow into the environment.

Author's Note: ... I don't trust counselors Mark and Ethan.

Rule #29 - B.D.S.B (Bearing Doesn't Stop Bears)

Rule #30 - You are also going to need a quality shovel that can break through. You want a sharpen blade and a good foot rest.

Rule #31 - Do not, under ANY circumstances, mention the Tactical Shovel to counselor Mark.

Rule #32 - When you're digging a grave you should bring water, remember to stay hydrated!

Rule #33 - You can only absorbe so much sweat you produce. After a while it gets unhealthy, because your body can't filter out the bad water that you produce.

Rule #34 - You piss out of your skin when you can't piss out of anywhere else. So if you drink that, but then you piss it out again, then it becomes Super Piss (and that's not good to consume). But if you drink that then it turns into Ultra Piss, which is very valuable but bad to ingest. It's also incredible dangerous because, while bees can smell fear, they can also see the vapors from the Ultra Piss. So, although rare and easy to sell to a high price, it would attract thousands of bees.

Rule #35 - B.E.C.W.U.B (Be Extra Careful With [the] Ultra B[P]iss)

Rule #36 - The forest is one of the most polluted places, you can't get a breath of fresh air.

Rule #37 - Your buddy is always a breath of fresh air. (Hey, please don't do what Mark and Ethan did on the video, COVID-19 is still a very, very real thing.)

Rule #38 - Once you are done digging the grave, lay the body on a fetal position. Remember to really support the spine.

Rule #39 - If you can, get a standing grave, it's great for the spine.

Rule #40 - You can feel more productive when you are standing.

Author's Note: ... I really, REALLY don't trust counselors Mark and Ethan. I knew that bacon tasted kinda odd-

Rule #41 - Now all that's left to do is lay your friend to rest.

Rule #42 - Now you can go ahead and say words of rememberness, a testament to their life.

Rule #43 - The truth is the nicest gift you can give anybody.

Rule #44 - If you listen closely when your friend is later rest, you can hear their soul whisper their final thoughts.

Rule #45 - Remember to hit counselor Mark with a stick for waking us up at 6 am using a pan.

Rule #46 - Team building is the most important part of being on a camp. Because you may have your buddy, but we are all a team.

Rule #47 - Trust is the very foundation of any team.

Rule #48 - At any moment your buddy can need you. You'll never know when a bear is going to strike, when a chipmunk is going to go rabid, when a raccoon is going to be sneaky. You've got to be prepared for anything. And above all, you need to be prepared to catch your buddy if they fall.

Rule #49 - When you're in the nature, you are going to be climbing on a lot of things. They may be slippery surfaces, you may be not sure of your footing. You've got to be prepared at any time to catch your buddy.

Rule #50 - The higher the fall the greater the trust. Anyone from your team could be falling at any moment, make sure to catch them.

Rule #51 - Trust counselors Mark and Ethan...?

Rule #52 - Your buddy can fall in any direction, you've got to be ready.

Rule #53 - With a trust fall you've got to trust your buddy, but you gotta trust yourself too.

Rule #54 - No better way to exhibit a team than to show your strength together (by making a human pyramid).

Rule #55 - Tug of War, classic team building from earliest man. Get a rope and you pull, but you've got to make two teams so you can compete and defeat their respective enemy (and they need to die).

Rule #56 - Don't forget, it's hot outside, so make sure you wear your sunscreen and drink plenty of water.

Rule #57 - Start in the middle (the knot needs to be in the middle), and whoever gets it to the point where the winner is obvious.... well, wins precisely.

Author's Note: UNUS! UNUS! UNUS! UN- oh, nevermind.

Rule #58 - The next most important part of team-building is sharing. Sharing with eachother is basically bonding. You learn from eachother, you have openness with eachother, and so on.

Rule #59 - The clue to win Three Legged Pace is coordination.

Rule #60 - It's always important when you go out outside to be prepared, and of course, bring water.

Rule #61 - Make sure to keep cool when you're in the wilderness, it is important for survival. And when you're done drinking water, you can play a little football with your friend using the leftover bottle.

Rule #62 - While playing Three Legged Egg Balance, remember to keep a steady "one-two" rhythm.

Rule #63 - FIRE IS NO JOKE. Don't play around with it.

Rule #64 - Knowing how to built a fire is one of the most important skills at Camp Unus Annus. With it you can cook your food, disinfect your water, clean your clothes, stay warm and call grandma.

Rule #65 - And if your grandparents are death, stare deeply into the fire until you see their face swim out of the flames.

Rule #66 - Fire is spelled F-I-R-T. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

Author's Note: Wait a second, are they not Camp Counselors?-

How to built a fire:

Rule #67 / Step Number 1 - Be aware of the current threat level for forest fires. Right now it's midnight. That's B, for Be aware.

Rule #68 / Step Number 2 - Kindling. Be aware, get kindling, find perfect stick (B.A.G.K.F.P.S)

Rule #69 (nice) - Remember, if you want to start a fire get your bag of piss.

Rule #70 / Last Step - Friction. The friction of the stick (zooming around in circles) against the friction of a wooden piece creates smoke signals. The smoke signals will travel to your candling and say "Hey, catch on fire." And in response it will sometimes go "Okay" in an umberwear farm. The umbers are what leads to the fire in an it case of a FIRE. Very important.

Rule #71 - Always have a fire extinguisher (preferably water) just in case something goes wrong.

Rule #72 - Put your prefect stick on your wood base and start rubbing said stick against it.

Rule #73 - Gently blow the base after rubbing the stick, fire needs oxygen to grow.

Rule #74 - If you manage to make a hole through the base, leave the stick there and start spinning it. With the power of insertion, if you get it going fast enough, flames should ignite.

Rule #75 - Fire needs to be seduced.

Rule #76 - To produce the flames you need to sin.

Rule #77 - Satan knows.

Rule #78 - For the love of God, keep counselor Mark away from sharp objects.

Author's Note: ... Does anyone else see the weird man dressed in a black suit outside or it's just me...?

Rule #79 - No matter what goals you may have in life, a little bit of hard work, a little bit of determination, a bit of luck gets you anywhere.

Author's note: Yay escape room! I love those!

Rule #80 - Beware of counselor Evan throwing things at the tents.

Rule #81 - On daytime the bats are squirrels, but on nighttime they are vampires. For this reason you shouldn't be around bats, or they will suck your blood.

Rule #82 - Counselor Mark really loves riddles.

Rule #83 - Stay six feet away from the trees to avoid being attacked by a squirrel.

Rule #84 - The most dangerous things about the deers are their antlers and hooves.

Rule #85 - To survive the snakes you need to: Look, Observe, Scan, React, Run (L.O.S.R.R)

Author's Note: Counselor Ethan is fucking smart, fight me. Also, shout out to counselor Amy because not once have I mentioned her and she's amazing.

Rule #86 - Run away from Mark. JUST RUN.

Rule #87 - Tragically, counselor Mark has turned into the beast called Neanderthalensis Marconius, also known as HeeHoo.

Rule #88 - HeeHoo feeds himself with wild Takis, roaming around the woods butt naked and in solitude...

Rule #89 - If you wish to communicate with the HeeHoo, there are sounds he will react to: Unus Annus.

(And here it is, after nights of work I present to you the -not so official- Unus Annus Rule Manual! This has been a blast, I am so glad I could finally finish it. Camp Unus Annus was absolutely amazing in every sense of the word, thanks Mark, Ethan, Amy and Evan for the experience!)

@tiny-crecher (I am SO sorry-)

@markiplier @crankgameplays

#Unus Annus #Camp Unus Annus #Camp Unus Annus Rules #Rule Manual #Safety rules #rules #camp #markiplier #crankgameplays #youtube #youtubers #list #HeeHoo #memes #original post

872 notes · View notes

stylesann · 3 years ago

Text

Rebuilding

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve decides to go back to the 40’s and you hurt.

Warnings: idk? Angst but happy ending

A/N: I have no idea what this is but aaa I feel like it’s bad lol, I just always get in a very angsty and dramatic mood every time that I read a story about Steve leaving so I wanted to do my own twist? Idk, and it’s been yeaaaars since I don’t write anything and also I’m not a native English speaker so I apologise any mistakes. Comments are always welcome 💕 -> written in around 15/04/2021; ->posted 28/05/2021

Masterlist

You stare at the ocean and release all the air you were holding on your lungs. You still felt your body heavy but at least your tears had stoped. You’re fighting hard to keep your thoughts out of your head, to keep your mind calm like the scenario in front of you, an empty beach with the ocean waves rhythmically hitting the shore. The sky had a lot of clouds and it would probably rain soon, but you didn’t mind, it matched you mood.

You could say you were surprised but all you felt was disappointment, sadness and if you were being honest, you felt anger and jealousy. What Peggy had that you didn’t? I mean, you didn’t know the answer and you were sure if you had asked Steve he wouldn’t be able to give you one cause he had spent such a short amount of time with her that he couldn’t be able to actually know all of her. All her flaws, all the quirks. In the past you had thought he didn’t even loved her anymore and was just in love with an image, an illusion he had from his past. But for him to had left you for her you weren’t even sure of that anymore.

You also felt used, replaceable, like you were just kept there cause he couldn’t do better, cause he couldn’t be with her. And now that he could he just tossed you away. You knew Steve wasn’t that kind of guy, but thats how you felt. And no one could tell you how you should feel or deal with it.

So that’s what lead you here. It had all happened hours ago. You saw his old self in that bench and you just felt numb. Bucky tried to hold you, he said that Steve wanted to talk to you but you just left. You had that right didn’t you? You didn’t care about what he had to say, it was all bullshit. You didn’t care about his guilt, or how sorry he was. You didn’t even care to go back to the apartment you shared with him, because you knew if you had gone there you would be stared by a hundred pictures you had with him.

You just wanted to get away. So here you came. You look down to the wedding band on you finger and the engagement ring. You wore both together but it didn’t make sense to have them anymore. You didn’t want any memories from Steve on you so you take them out and feel their light weight on you palm. You knew this was it, it was your way of closure, of ending that part of you life. You take a deep breath and throw them at the sea. There’s no way of seeing them drown but just the thought that you didn’t have them anymore made you lighter.

You turn around, ready to go back to the car that brought you here but you see a familiar figure blocking the way. Bucky.

“How are you feeling, doll?” he says approaching you. You didn’t know how long he was standing there or what he had seen. You wonder if he could see how empty and drained you really were.

“In the moment I’m not feeling anything. I think I’m still mostly numb. But that’s probably for the best, right?” You try to give him a light answer knowing that he lost his best friend too. How could Steve have left him after fighting so long to have him back was beyond you. “Did you know? Did you know what he was gonna do?”

“I did” that was all it took for the tears to start falling from your eyes. Why had Steve told him and not you? You were his wife for gods sake didn’t you deserve at least this? Bucky reaches for you but you push him away.

“Why didn’t h-he tell me? Why did he d-do this?” you hiccup between the words, the tears falling harder than before.

“I think he just didn’t have the guts to. You know he loves you, Y/N-“

“Screw him! If he did, he wouldn’t have done this!” All the feelings you were trying to push down seem to come to surface and tighten their grip on your chest. “I can’t understand why you aren’t angry? Why aren’t you feeling betrayed?”

“He didn’t leave me alone Y/N, he asked us to take care of each other” he has a pleading look on his face while he says that, and you see that the difference between you and him is that he had some time to come to terms with his friends decision, he’s sad but keeping it to himself. He’s trying to be strong for everyone one else who didn’t know, for you mostly.

“I don’t care about what he asked. I’m not staying and I’m not doing what he would want me too. I’m always gonna be there for you Buck, not because he’s wants that but because I care about you. Whatever you need you can call, even if it’s just for a chat, but I’m not staying, i can’t. I am getting into that car and I’m gonna drive away as much as i can, and I’m only stopping when I feel like I’ve put miles between me and this” you say more calm than you were minutes before. You had a plan, it may not be the best one but that’s what you had for now. You didn’t want to be in the same place you lived with Steve, you didn’t want to see the same scenarios you saw with him, you wanted nothing from him. Maybe it was bitter of you, or maybe you didn’t have the best coping mechanism but you needed the distance.

Bucky’s expression seemed to sadden a bit but he understood, he knew this wasn’t easy for you. “I don’t want to change your mind about leaving, so I say the same, if you need anything you call Y/N, got it?” He says as he hugs you firmly.

“Got it” you say in whisper against his shoulder, his arms still around you delaying the last moments he’s gonna have with another friend. You hate to be doing this, he didn’t deserve it you knew it, but you also knew that he wouldn’t be willing to accompany you on your trip, and it was something that you needed to do alone. You were alone.

“You know he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t know you you be able to rebuild your life, right? You’re a strong person” He uses the same tone of voice you had, he probably just didn’t want to trigger you into making your feelings rise again.

“Everyone has the ability to rebuild themselves, Buck. The fact that I’m strong shouldn’t make what he did alright. And I don’t feel much strong now... I just feel like I’m a shell. And even if I do find someone else, how am I going to let them in? How am I supposed to trust anyone with my heart, when the guy I gave all my heart before completely destroyed me?” A single tear fall from your eye, but you hold the rest back. “I’m going to be fine but I don’t even know what that mean anymore.” He just nods to this, and I know there’s nothing left to be said so I head to the car and take a deep breath holding the wheel. This is it.

I look at Bucky while I drive away, he’s still standing where I left him and I hope with everything on me that he will be fine too. Whatever that means.

****************************

The sun is harsh on your eyes slipping through the curtains open frames. You turn your head to the other side and you feel a heavy weight on your waist stopping you from moving further than that. You slowly open your eyes to see Franks figure with his arm on you and his head drowned on the pillow.

You turn again to look at the clock to see it marking 8:47 am. Mary would be up soon, so you slip from Frank taking extra care not to wake him up and head to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can we have pancakes today?!” Mary breaks into the small kitchen excitedly jumping around. Today you and Frank would be taking her to her new math club and she couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“What is going on here” Franks rough morning voice appears on the room. He’s rubbing his eyes and seems to be sleeping still.

“We are making Mary her favourite pancakes for breakfast” you answer them as you get the ingredients on the counter. Mary hugs you and sits straight on the table waiting for you to prepare them.

It had been 6 years since the day you left New York and ended up traveling for a long time through the country only to end up here. Florida. It was hot all the time, you always felt warm but it was distant enough from your past and you felt better about it. You decided that you wanted to rent a small place near the beach and so you found a woman named Roberta, that rented a few houses that fulfilled your wish. You didn’t think twice before accepting her deal.

You weren’t carrying anything on you except for the few clothes that you had bought on your journey so the move was quite simple. And you weren’t expecting to fit in so well here but the fact that as soon as you were settled a little girl, who was maybe 7 at the time, had come to you with a lot of questions that honestly you couldn’t answer warmed you up to the place real fast.

The fact that Mary had managed to always meet up with you but you still had to meet Frank was beyond you. She talked a lot about him “Frank did this today”, “oh did you know Frank let me adopt another cat”, “the first cat Frank got us was Fred, he has only one eye”, and so on. You knew more about him that you probably would by talking to him in person, according to Mary herself. She said he was very closed but had a great heart, she even told you the story about him fighting in justice for her guard. It only made you think he was a great guy who would do anything to protect his niece, and you were sincerely excited to meet him, give the person a face.

However, as it appears that his schedule was always all over the place and you always waking around town and spending many hours on the beach didn’t help with your meeting. You didn’t understand at first too how Mary always found you around, but she explained that whenever she wasn’t studying and Frank was going out with his girlfriend Boni, she stayed with her friend Roberta, who quickly became a good acquaintance of yours.

Either way, Mary had been talking to you for weeks when you finally met Frank. You couldn’t believe your eyes and genuinely thought you were delusional. He looked just like Steve, but the moment he started speaking you could see the differences between the two and the helped you find your foot again.

In the beginning you were hesitant about spending time with Mary and Frank, who surprised Mary with the news that he had gotten a more stable job. According to him, he still fixed boats but for a company that payed well. You were happy for him but the memories his face brought still made you want distance.

During the four years you traveled around you had let him go, all of him. You had been trough all the grief stages and learnt how to do well with your own company, you didn’t need anyone else. But looking at his face had the effect of hitting you with a sad resigned feeling and you didn’t like it. But Mary always spoke so highly of her uncle that you knew keeping your distance from both because of memories wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course notice that you never iniciantes any conversation with him and he wondered if Mary had introduced the same woman she said was talkative and affectionated. He asked you about it and it wasn’t until you answered with sincerity that he understood. Since then he was more careful in your presence which you appreciated.

With time though, you warmed up to him, he was a good guy you never doubted that. You became close friends and when him and Boni broke up you helped him. It was a mutual break up but it’s never easy.

You friendship was going great until you notice him treating you differently than he would before and you realised he was slowly catching feelings for you. Obviously being romantically involved with him was the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to change the way things were going between you two and that’s what led you to this moment.

In a car, dropping Mary off to her math club, with Frank by your side and the promise that it would be okay. It had to. You took so long to let him in that now you didn’t want to let go, and you doubt Frank wanted anything but stay. Bucky said the same when he came to visit you and Frank. You look at him and you see him smile at you.

“You think he’s gonna be a mini genius?” He asks looking at the small bump on your belly.

“If he gets MY genes, obviously” I sass laughing.

“Ha, you know the genius genes it’s on my side of the family Mrs. Adler” he chuckles.

“On your dreams” you smile. It you be okay.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #frank adler #frank adler x reader

102 notes · View notes

bruhlsbees · 4 years ago

Text

paradox burning ; 2/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

summary: when it seems you've lost earth, panic finally settles in

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

word count: 5,548

warnings: biting of skin around the fingers, mentions of mental health issues

a/n: finally settled into my apartment and have wifi! i will admit this one was a little hard to write so i apologize if this was a little hard to read. next chapter for sure will have more meat to it! thanks for all your comments, shares, and support! <3

Another test aboard the Cloverfield Space Station. The 47th test in just over two years is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. All eyes are on-

“This is Huntsville...we’ve got eyes and ears.”

Seated beside Acosta, you watched the newscast presented on the screen with Mark Stambler - the conspiracy theorist who was on yet another rave about this so-called ‘Cloverfield Paradox’. Acosta seemed to be just as irritated with what the guy was saying just as much as you were. You could only wonder how many people actually believed what this guy was saying.

“Right this minute, they are testing a particle accelerator up there, so we can learn how to make unlimited energy down here. But those who have accepted the Cloverfield Paradox is real...know how dangerous that is.”

Shaking your head, you brought your fingers to your mouth, chewing on the skin that was around your nails, leaning forward towards the screen. You didn’t know what was more nerve-wracking...what Stambler was going on about, or the team around you preparing for the next test.

As you sank your teeth into your skin, tearing it off before moving on to the next finger, you felt a sensation trickle down your spine, as if someone were watching you. Glancing to your right, you quickly pulled your fingers from your mouth at the sight of Acosta giving you ‘the look’. Blushing, you looked down and squeezed your hands together in your lap.

“Sorry...just a little anxious.” You whispered, your eyes falling back to the screen.

Placing a hand on your knee, Acosta gave your knee a comforting squeeze before pulling away, “It’s going to work this time. I know it will.”

Nodding your head, you smiled weakly at Acosta, finding a sense of ease with his own hope on the day. You did your best to focus on the newscast again, ignoring the stinging sensation from your fingers at the spots that you tore into too deep. The faint taste of iron in your mouth from the blood. You knew you’d have to clean up after the test, not wanting to go around with bloody fingers the rest of the day.

“This experiment could unleash chaos…the likes of which we’ve never seen. Monsters, demons, beasts of the sea-”

“To clarify, you believe their efforts to solve the energy crisis might unleash demons?”

Scoffing, you couldn’t help but laugh as it continued on, “This guy really thinks that we are going to break open some world-ending creation, doesn’t he?” Shaking your head, you leaned back in your chair, your hands gripping at the armrests on either side of you.

It was the Commander who finally had enough of what bullshit was spewing from the guy’s mouth - directing that you and Acosta turn it off. As you did, you heard over the intercom from Volkov that the gyro was calibrating, meaning that it was only minutes before the test finally began - but not before egging Schmidt’s temper on how his station was doing.

You smiled weakly at Schmidt who rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath as he continued on before your attention went to Mundy who approached you and Acosta, asking for him to grant them with his ‘holy stick’. When Acosta stood to lead into prayer, you sank to your knees on the ground, crossing yourself before clasping your hands together, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, waiting for Acosa to begin.

“Oh come on. Not now when we’re-”

Opening one eye, you looked to see Schmidt slightly amused, in shock that you were about to go into prayer before the test. You all had your own faiths, or lack thereof, and something you and Schmidt never seemed to see eye-to-eye with was that. He could treat it as a joke all he wanted, but this was possibly the only thing that gave you even an ounce of peace of mind.

“Schmidt.”

When the Commander scolded Schmidt, he fell silent, sitting in silence while Mundy, the Commander, Acosta, and yourself all gathered around for Acosta to lead you into prayer.

“The farther we travel from home, the clearer it becomes that there is power infinitely greater than us. Please show Your mercy and allow the Shepard to work this time. To provide the energy we need. To prevent our countries from going to war. Please, God, be on our side. Amen.”

Standing up, you smiled at Acosta before laughing as Mundy went in to fist-bump Acosta.

“That was righteous.”

It was finally time for the test to begin. As the accelerator began to power up, the team gathered around to their stations, you stood beside Acosta, watching as Schmidt made his way from his station towards the two of you.

“Back to work. Sunday school over with?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Schmidt’s comment, shaking your head as he smirked, winking your way before turning towards the middle of the room, to the main starter for the accelerator.

“He’s insufferable.” You mumbled, earning a laugh from Acosta before he nudged you, heading over towards Schmidt and Mundy. You followed in suit, standing beside Acosta as you watched Schmidt prepare to launch the accelerator.

As you steadied yourself for the test, you found yourself toying with your cross necklace, squeezing the pendant between your fingers as you listened to Schmidt count down before turning the key, igniting the accelerator. The ship around you began to shake as the accelerator kicked in, preparing to send out another test of electricity.

You didn’t have it in you to watch, closing your eyes, you began to mumble a prayer to yourself, hoping that this was it - that this would be the test that worked and that you’d all get to go home. Back to your families, back to a normal life, back to reality.

“Please…” You found yourself whispering, “Please let this work.”

The whirring sound of the machine almost drowned out Tam’s voice, but when she repeated herself, your eyes shot open. Did you hear her right? Was this test successful?

“What’s our output?” Commander Kiel asked.

“We have positive energy flow,” Schmidt began, “For the first time. Look at this! Look at this!”

Of course this was a time to celebrate. For the first time you managed to finally run a successful test. Turning towards Acosta, your smile grew from ear to ear before rushing into his arms, hugging him tightly as the two of you laughed, happy to hear that your prayers were finally answered and that they finally managed to figure out how to get a successful test.

“We are focused at 47 teravolts.”

“Oh man!”

The cheers and celebrations that went around were only expected - perhaps a little unprofessional with some of the language that came from Mundy, but nobody could be upset - after two years, finally you had something go right.

“Hamilton, get us in viewing mode.”

Watching as the screen changed from your current view of Earth to the accelerator lighting up. Your grin never faltered at the sight of the beautiful purple hue buzzing, indicating that everything was going smooth. All things were finally going to plan…

Until they weren’t.

You weren’t sure what happened, but the purple light soon became too much, practically blinding you until the power shut off completely, the accelerator overloading the system. Catching yourself as the ship violently rocked, the power shortly coming back, your eyebrows furrowed as the alarm began to ring, screaming at Schmidt as the warning for ‘system overload’ presented itself on the screen.

“Schmidt! Tell me something!”

“It says it hit 602-”

Before Schmidt could finish his sentence, the glass in the room shattered, sending everyone ducking to the ground. You groaned at the bits of glass digging into you and how abruptly you were thrown to the ground. Pulling yourself to your knees, you lifted your hands up, flipping them over to see that your palms were covered with glass, small trickles of blood freckling your skin.

Looking over towards the main window, you squinted at the sight of the harsh light beaming in, the electricity buzzing picking up again. You covered your hands over your ears, the sound becoming almost too much for you. What the hell was happening now?

Before you could even ask, you felt your body suddenly lift off the ground and into the air, hitting the ceiling along with everyone else - pinned in place before being dropped to the ground again. This time you rolled to your back, letting out a cough as you tried to collect your thoughts.

The test failed. You along with many others would probably have some sort of injury that you and Acosta would have to look over later. The test failed and you only had two more tests now before...well....

When you sat up, you let out a sigh before grabbing the table in front of you, pulling yourself up before sitting in the chair. Your hands at this point were burning from the glass and your head was so heavy it felt like it was going to topple off your shoulders and roll to the ground. But there was no time to recover just yet, because this was just the beginning.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After attempting to kill the fire and figure out what exactly was failing with the ship, everyone came back together in the main control room. Glass was still everywhere and the awful smell of smoke still stung your nose. You currently sat in front of Mundy, looking over his hands and picking out the glass with tweezers, your own hands wrapped now from you and Acosta treating one another before the others returned.

The hiss that came from Mundy made you jump, although you continued to work on his hands, pulling out the final pieces of glass from his left hand before wrapping it up to match his right. You looked up and smiled at him, letting his hands go as he stood up to gather around with the others.

You knew that panicking wasn’t going to help anything, but the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and it was hard to not lash out when Volkov and Schmidt were at it again.

“For once, Volkov! Could you please just shut up?” You snapped, your back facing away from him as you rubbed at your temples.

“Enough! All of you!” You tensed at the sound of the Commander’s voice booming over the arguing that was going on. He didn’t have to say it for you to know, but you all sounded like a bunch of toddlers throwing tantrums.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you chewed on your bottom lip as you calmed down, or at least attempted to. You were doing fine until Hamilton spoke up.

“It isn’t here.” Hamilton explained, a worried expression washed over her face. The color was drained from her face, as if she saw a ghost.

Spinning in your seat, you watched as the Commander headed towards Hamilton, standing beside her as he looked down at the screen. What wasn’t there? Was it the frequency for Mission Control like Schmidt suggested. No, it was much worse.

“The Earth...it isn’t there,” Hamilton rushed, “I...can’t find anything.”

“We must have got turned around, moved during firing.” The Commander suggested.

“Well it’s big, blue, full of angry people. Keep looking, you’ll find it.” Mundy pressed, now hovering like many others over the station that Hamilton was at.

Standing now, your own worry began to sink in. How in all names holy did you just lose Earth? Making your way now beside Mundy, you watched Hamilton as she continued to look over the monitors for Earth, still unable to find anything.

“I’ve double checked the radio target, but the target’s gone.”

“Guys, the system is scrambled!” Mundy reminded, trying his best to remain calm.

“Hamilton is right,” Looking over towards Schmidt, your heart sank to your stomach. You didn’t want to believe that Hamilton was right, but it seemed as though she was. “It’s-it’s not here. We’re not picking up any signals!”

“The entire Earth is not gone!” You finally cried, tears filling your eyes. “We didn’t just lose Earth!”

As everyone around you began to frantically look through the monitors, your brain went to your family. To Mama, Papa, to Mila and Joseph. Did you lose them? No, no you couldn’t have.

You didn’t wait around to hear Volkov point blame at Schmidt, when you didn’t see the Earth on the external cameras, you pushed by Mundy and made your way out of the room, rushing down the hall to begin looking out the windows for yourself.

Nothing.

As you looked out the window that was outside of your own quarters, you felt the whimper escape your throat, your body rocking slightly before your attention turned towards your room, rushing in suddenly and towards your computer, typing in Joseph’s name to start a video call. You knew it was a long shot, but you could only hope Joseph would answer.

Staring at the screen through your tears, feeling some finally begin to spill over, you watched as the call searched for a signal - feeling like forever until finally-

/COMMUNICATIONS ➤ NO SIGNAL FOUND

“No...no...no!” Wiping away your tears from your face, you frantically retried the call. Waiting until the same error message popped up. Sinking into your chair, you stared at the picture of your family, the red error message burning into your eyes.

So this was it. The weight of possible damnation staring in front of you. How could something go so right, yet so wrong in the matter of just seconds?

You tried one more time to call Joseph, watching as the connection buffered before the same message popped up again. Letting out a shaky sigh, you dropped your head and cried until no more tears could fall from your eyes. The overwhelming sense of fear filling your body.

After taking a moment to recollect yourself, you stood up and wiped your face, heading to the mirror to look over yourself. No matter how hard you wiped away your tears, it was still so evident that you had been crying. You didn’t want anyone to see you like that - knowing that you were cracking under pressure.

“Get ahold of yourself,” You whispered, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You shook your head once before fixing your hair, wiping away the tears and letting out a sigh, shaking your arms and legs as if to get all the nerves out, “You’re going to see them again. Crying isn’t going to solve anything.”

You took one final look at yourself in the mirror before nodding, taking a final look at the screen once more, looking at the picture of your family.

“I’ll find a way home. I’m not going to stop until I’m back with you.”

Despite knowing that it was just a picture, you waited a moment, as if waiting for them to respond before exiting your quarters and moving down the hall, back to meet with the others.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you walked into the common room, everything felt heavy. Despite the room filled with everyone now, besides the Commander, nobody spoke a word. Sniffling, you quickly wiped your face to make sure no new tears were falling before making your way to the table, taking a seat at the end in between Acosta and Tam.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to you, staring ahead of you at the table. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat, choking on the whimper that dared to escape. Clearing your throat, you tried to pretend that you weren’t on the verge of crying, coughing once before hearing the corridor doors open.

“Alright, here’s what we’re up against.” The Commander spoke as he sat down at the other end of the table. Your attention turned to the end of the table where he was seated, listening to what he had to say.

“The station’s got problems we don’t have tools to fix. At this point, looking for home is a luxury for us. First, we need to survive.”

“We need to consider, evidence or not...that we might have ended the lives of billions of people,” Acosta interjected. You sank in your seat, your eyes watering. You hadn’t thought of it like that. Did you destroy the Earth? Did you wipe out your home planet instead of just get shot to some other part of the galaxy?

“We didn’t destroy the Earth,” Schmidt explained, surprisingly calm, “We just...lost it.”

It was Mundy who let out a laugh, and you couldn’t blame him, it was almost a joke as to how Schmidt had put it.

“Totally routine day. Copy that.”

Shaking his head, Commander Kiel motioned towards Mundy and then Schmidt, “Mundy, take Schmidt and deal with the O2.”

Looking up, surprised to hear that the Commander wanted Schmidt with Mundy, you smiled to yourself - it seemed like any sense of normality was off the table now.

“I’m a physicist.” Schmidt reminded.

“And now you work for Mundy,” Adjusting your position in your seat, you leaned forward against the table, listening as the Commander continued on with orders, “Tam, you and Monk will search and repair all power leaks. Maybe we can get this temperature under control. Hamilton, Volkov, test all circuits, then we can start looking for home.”

“When the Shepard overloaded, something went wrong with the station’s orientation system.” Volkov explained.

“We’ll replace the circuits-”

“No shit, if that’s the problem!” Volkov cut Mundy off, annoyed at the obvious solution, “But um, it might be the gyro.” You watched as Volkov messed with the side of his face, rubbing under his right eye as if something were bothering him.

You tried to ignore Volkov, your attention pulled to the Commander when you realized that he hadn’t assigned you to do anything. Watching as everyone headed out, you stood up and made your way towards the other end of the table.

“Commander? What can I do? You didn’t assign me anything.” You pointed out, toying with the bandages around your fingers from where you were biting at earlier.

When you caught that the Commander was looking at the bandages, you quickly dropped your hands, as if trying to hide them. You watched as he smiled weakly, standing up before placing a hand to your shoulder.

“Yeah, listen...I want you to go check on all medical supplies. Actually, supplies in general. See how much we have and figure out how long it’ll last us.” He nodded and went to turn, going to meet with the others before you stopped him.

“Wait, that’s all? Commander, I’m sure I can be of help elsewhere.” You explained, taking a step forward towards him. The Commander’s steps slowed to a stop, his shoulders sinking as he let out a sigh before turning around.

“When you were going through your interviews and evaluations, what was your weakest eval?” He questioned, perplexing you until it came to you.

“M-My psychological evaluation, Commander,”

“Yes, exactly,” He took a step towards you and placed both hands on your shoulders, “Like Hamilton, you have family you’re close with, which oftentimes brings more stress to you both than the rest of us.”

“I don’t understa-”

“Your fingers. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re under a lot of stress right now, anxious about not being able to contact your family. Right now you going and trying to mess with wirings or the systems is not safe. Not for you, or the rest of us on here.”

You felt insulted. So what if you were experiencing a slight breakdown - who wouldn’t be in your shoes? You passed your evaluation, barely, but you did. You felt like a child, not being able to play with the big kids because you were too small.

“This isn’t fair, Commander. I’m just as much a part of this crew as everyone else. There must be something I can do to help!”

Pulling away, the Commander sighed and shook his head, “I want you to go to the medbay and go through medical supplies, that’s what you can do. Please, don’t take this as punishment. You are helping,” He paused and straightened up, clearing his throat, “Now I don’t want to hear anymore of it.”

And with that, the Commander left you in the common room, alone with your thoughts. Feeling your hands balled into fists, you looked around the room, tears welling in your eyes before you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Incompetent...is that what I am now?” You squeezed your nails into your palms before feeling the tension inside of you soon pop, leaving you back to your empty state of mind. Wiping your cheeks, you mumbled a string of curse words as you headed out of the common room and down to the medbay where you were tasked to look into the medical supplies.

When you arrived at the medical bay, you shut the door behind you, pulling on a pair of gloves before grabbing the clipboard that contained all the medicines on file and quantities. Opening the first cabinet, you went through the list, verifying that everything was in order and that you had the correct amount of vials that were listed on the paper.

You grew tired of the task quickly, rubbing your eyes and blinking as you stared at the paper. Looking up from the clipboard, you tossed it down on the examination table before sitting at the stool, closing your eyes to take a break, soon drifting off into an unexpected slumber.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“There are a few that I’m worried about joining you on the ship, Commander,” You overheard someone - a woman - state. You could hear her flipping through files, searching for the right paperwork.

You were the last of the crew to receive your final evaluations before departing onto the Cloverfield Station. You knew something was off when you finished your psychological evaluation and the doctor left in a hurry, not stating much other than you were free to go. Now you were seated outside of the examination room, waiting to receive your results from the Commander, toying with the hem of your shirt as you listened to the doctor and Commander speak.

“She hardly passed her psychological evaluation. Her temperamental issues, not as severe as Volkov or Schmidt, are still high - dangerous when unstable. I fear that she may become a threat on board if the wrong situation should arise.”

Frowning, you held your stomach as it began to flip, making you sick. You had always known of your own mental health issues, of course, but to the extent the doctor was putting it made you sound incompetent of joining the crew - and you knew that you had a right to be on board just as much as the rest of them.

“So what are you saying, Doc? If Volkov and Schmidt are good to be on board with their own temperamental issues, what is the concern with her?”

“It’s not that she has anger issues, but something more depressing. Being in space, without the sun, away from family, it can send someone into a state of panic. I fear that her being around those medical supplies, especially when she is having an episode, will not only harm her, but the others too.”

The silence that fell over the Commander and doctor made your heart sink. So this was it? All this time, all this money, all this preparation just to be told no right before boarding? Shaking your head, you stood up and went to leave, not bothering to stay to be told what you already knew.

But before you could make it to the middle of the room, the Commander’s voice startled you to a stop.

“She is no threat to this crew and belongs on board the Cloverfield just as much as the rest of them do. Until I see her pose a threat, I don’t give a damn what cruel ideas you have set in mind for her.”

As you turned your attention back towards the doorway of the room the doctor and Commander were in, you felt your cheeks become red when you saw the Commander, in a huff now standing in front of you.

“Commander, I-”

“You’re all cleared for boarding. Go change into your uniform and prepare to meet with the others. We leave at sunrise tomorrow.” The Commander quickly said, not letting you get the chance to even attempt to apologize for eavesdropping.

Your mouth turned into a small smile, nodding before turning and making your way out of the room and down to the room you were staying in on base, the closer you got to your room, the bigger your smile became.

Waking with a start, you tried to catch your breath as the sound of screaming came from outside. Jolting up, you made your way towards the door before stopping halfway as the entire crew came in, carrying, well, that you didn’t know.

“Clear the table! Quick we need to get these pipes out of her!” You heard Acosta yell, motioning for you to clear off the examination table.

Nodding, you frantically made your way to the table, pushing off the clipboard and other things you had piled on before stepping back as the crew surrounded the table, setting the mysterious woman down before holding her as she thrashed about.

“Who is this?” You asked, squeezing your way beside Acosta, holding up a light as he began to cut away her pant leg, revealing the wiring that was going through her. Gasping, you held your hand to your mouth, trying not to gag at the grotesque sight.

Nobody seemed to be responsive, in their own world as they tried to calm the woman down, pinning her until Acosta was able to inject her with something in the leg to numb her pain and put her to sleep while he operated on her. When the woman was finally asleep, the room filled with just the panting of everyone on the crew, you looked up at everyone.

“I’ll ask again, who the hell is that-”

“We don’t know! Okay? We found her in the wall, wrapped in the wirings and screaming.” Schmidt exclaimed, his face red.

Glaring towards him, you shook your head and pointed your flashlight at him, letting the light hit his eye, “Don’t sit there and talk to me like that. I wasn’t there. You expect me to just sit back and watch as some random person comes into the medical bay?”

Schmidt held his hand up to block the light from hitting his eye, “Would you get that light out of my face?”

You dropped the light, watching as he dropped his hand before you shot the light back up to his face, blinding him once again, a smirk toying on your mouth before jumping at the sound of the Commander.

“Enough! Acosta, finish looking after her and give us an update when you have one.” You watched as Acosta nodded, continuing to look over her. As you started to get your own set of medical supplies to help, you were stopped by the Commander, placing a hand over the drawer before you could get anything out.

“No, not you. Go to your room and cool off for a minute and then you can come back and help. Right now, you’re on the brink of-”

“Of what?” You snapped, turning your attention to the Commander. You ignored the rest of the crew in the room who tried to not so obviously watch and listen, but you kind of made it hard when you were pulling a scene. “I’m sorry that I’m reacting like a normal human being, Commander. But to be quite frank, we’re fucked. I’m not going to pretend that we aren’t, especially when you have a strange woman who you claim to have come from the wall lying on the examination table!”

Your face, now red, stared up at the Commander who seemed to be blank faced. When he didn’t say anything, you fell back on your heels, scoffing.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. I’ll go to my room and suck my thumb because evidently that’s all I’m good for!” Moving around the Commander, you pushed past Schmidt, knocking him to the side before storming out of the medical bay and down to your quarters. It was times like now that you wished the doors were manual, so you could slam your door shut and let the irritation seep out of you.

When you arrived at your quarters, you pulled off your medical gloves, tossing them in the trash before unzipping your suit, decided to change into your sweatpants and t-shirt as you didn’t expect to be doing much else today.

“Stupid...incompetent...might as well just say it to my face instead of dance around it,” You mumbled, pulling up your sweatpants as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You pulled your hair from your ponytail and shook your hair loose, letting it fall down your shoulders.

Hearing the door open and shut, you looked through the mirror to see Schmidt, his hands behind his back as he made his way towards you.

“What do you want?” You asked flatly, crossing your arms over your chest. Even in that moment, you were too annoyed to even want to see him, and usually you always wanted to see Schmidt. When he didn’t answer you, you uncrossed your arms and pointed to the door, ready to kick him out before being suddenly blinded by the light.

Flinching, you jumped at the light and closed your eyes, groaning as you held your hand up to block the light, “Okay, I get it, I’m sorry - but you really pissed me off, you know that?” As you blinked your eyes back open, adjusting to the light, you tried to not smile as Schmidt made his way to you, setting the flashlight on your desk before wrapping his arms around you.

“When don’t I piss you off?” He asked, smiling down at you as he moved his hands under your shirt, rubbing your waist. Moving your hands up, you placed your hands flat on his chest before pushing him away, your own smile now creeping onto your face as you went and sat on your bed.

“When you’re asleep,” You teased before cocking your head to the side, “Actually, no, even in your sleep you piss me off. Did you know you snore? God, it’s awful. Makes me want to suffocate you with my pillow.”

Smiling, you watched as he laughed, making his way to sit beside you on your bed, pulling you close to him as he kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw before up towards your ear, “I know something else you could suffocate me with.”

You giggled at the feeling of him biting on your earlobe before sitting back against your pillows, your legs now on his lap.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Something important to do? Or were you put on babysitting duty?” You shook your head and looked at your fingers, examining the bandages to make sure none had to be changed.

Shaking his own head, Schmidt looked down at your feet that were rested in his lap before rubbing your ankles, “Tam is meeting me at the X-Deck in ten minutes, but I wanted to stop and see you first after what happened in the medba-”

“What happened in the medbay was nothing, Ernst. I’m fine.” You knew that lying to him was pointless, but right now you didn’t want to explain to him what you were feeling, why you were feeling it, and so on. To you, it felt useless given everything else that was going around.

When you didn’t hear him respond, you looked up and frowned, seeing his own disappointed expression on his face. “Look, I’ll tell you later, okay? I’ll leave my door unlocked for you.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, holding his face in your hands.

At the feeling of his own hands on your face, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, you sighed against him, wishing that the moment could continue. Pulling back, you stared up at him, “You should go,” You explained gently, leaning forward to kiss him one more time.

Schmidt nodded, mimicking your actions and kissing you as well one last time before moving your legs, standing up off your bed before looking back down at you.

“I’ll be here at the usual time. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Nodding, you smiled and watched as he turned, heading out of your room and going to the X-Deck to meet with Tam, leaving you to your thoughts again.

When the doors shut behind him, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, laying back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Perhaps the Commander was right, maybe the mission finally cracked you.

#paradox burning #ernst schmidt x reader #ernst schmidt x you #the cloverfield paradox #ernst schmidt #ernst schmidt imagine #ernst schmidt smut #minors dni

91 notes · View notes

oootsevenlyon · 3 years ago

Text

why I'm not happy about the cb/mOnO

mOnO is OnlyOneOf's announced new single to be released on September 10, 2021 and OnlyOneOf isn't excited about it.

Not to mention there's a song release while 8D Entertainment still refuses to address fans' concerns about Jisung's departure.

I'll put most of the rest of this under a cut because it's long and i'll be discussing bubble messages. but just in case you're like "what's mOnO?":

It's a digital single announced as their first 6 member release, first teased with individual portrait shoots starting September 1st and then more properly announced on September 7.

Under the tagline "from boy to man", it is supposed to convey a "more intense and mature look."

[here's the Naver article this quote is from]

So here's all the things that bother me:

First, a few short comments on things I don't have a lot to say on but that are still notable:

- the line "from boy to man" really bothers me because their previous releases haven't been immature at all, they're literally all adults who for the most part manage their own content and Kyubin is literally 29 none of them are boys what are you on about?!

- the whole release, including the photoshoot, feels very rushed. the picture quality is... decent enough i guess? Except if you look at the group teaser picture, the "OOO" mark is incredibly low-res which is really weird for a watermark

look at that. what's that?

As I've said before, quoting the TV show Skins is... a choice I can't make sense of? And there was that one quote that wasn't even a real Skins quote. It really feels like 8D just ... googled that? And then didn't even fact check? Doesn't feel like something OOO would do. Doesn't feel like something Jaden would do..

- obviously it's ridiculous that 8D was silent for a month about a major reorganisation of their only group and them quite apparently silencing their members and then just drops some teaser as if everything is normal, that's a given and i'm not elaborating on it here because i talk about it literally every day.

- "mOnO", paired with the black and white pictures, the whole theme appears to be about "monochromatic" - anyway, here's a quote by Nine from an interview: "It means a lot to get away from black and white. By adding more elements and colors to our albums, we hope to represent our growth.” (he's talking about the ice and fire packaging)

[link to the article is here]

And now - OnlyOneOf isn't excited about this release.

I'm really only basing this on bubble messages - we also have the fancafe and the member twitter account. But bubble is that one platform where I, like, check my phone on my lunch break and there's 37 new messages from Rie. So. Bubble. I'm paraphrasing in parts and you aren't supposed to post their messages outside of bubble because it's a paid service. But if you don't have bubble and you want to see their messages for yourself, there are places on the internet where you can find translations of all their messages from the very beginning.

I'll do this teaser by teaser, and put everyone's reactions:

Yoojung -

from Yoojung: "who saw the teaser~~~" (0:47 am KST) + that he was surprised when he saw the picture + thanking everyone for complimenting him.

from KB: saying that yoojungs photo is "a big hit 🤯 " (0:48 am KST)

KB -

from KB: "i like the teaser.." (17:02 KST)

from Nine: saying that KB's picture came out well (6.11 am KST)

Rie -

from Rie: "wow you guys are seriously amazing, i can’t believe you put it together.." (0:48 am KST) (*bc people were right abt his teaser being next)

Mill -

- Mill hasn't mentioned his or any other teaser -

from Nine: "oh!! it's Yongsoo?!? I thought it would be Junji 흐흐" + Mill's hair has gotten long + he's handsome (0:05 - 0:14 am KST)

from Rie: saying that his teaser looks like a perfume model (2:01 am KST)

Junji -

from Junji: "it’s me?!ㅎㅎㅎㅎ" (1:18 am KST)

from Nine: "doesn’t junji's hair fit him perfectly????!??!?" (17:53 KST) (but he didn't fall in love with him!) (+ next day talking about it again, "oh my jjunji isn't that too erotic...?!?!" (Sep 6, 1:27 am KST))

Nine -

from Nine: 19:28 KST - is looking forward to the teaser, hopes it comes out soon / 23:50 KST - "is it time already?!?!?" + what kind of picture will it be? / 1:28 am KST - "oh right my teaser is up too" (after talking about Junji's teaser again) + how he took out his piercing bc he thought it would fit the picture better

group picture -

- nothing -

video teaser -

from Nine: "oh the teaser was uploaded ㅎㅎ it's my voice 하 " (4:15 am KST)

basically - that's nothing. even with wookjin clowning us like that, it's literally nothing. they've talked about getting vaccinated a whole lot more than they've talked about this song. no word of excitement about the actual music. big "oh, right... the teaser" vibes. all the reactions we have are basically about the visuals, not about the content or the concept

#onlyoneof #ooo #onlyoneof love #park jisung #park love #8d entertainment

24 notes · View notes

47-shades-of-hitman · 4 years ago

Text

Seven days of Valentine with Agent 47 | Day 5 | NSFW

Day 5 - “Cream-pie” for dessert | NSFW

Even though Agent 47 is an excellent cook, you'd much rather have him for dinner.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (male and female giving/receiving)

Link to my Hitman-related Discord server

Your legs dangled off the edge of the countertop, occasionally kicking the drawers underneath. Not that it mattered, because your socked feet would do no damage to the hardwood of the kitchen.

Agent 47 stood stirring in a pan of spinach, but the scent of well-seasoned salmon was what made you linger here whilst he prepared dinner – well, that, and the hitman’s presence.

He remained in his crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons undone, crimson tie loosened. The veins running across his forearms made you want you trace your fingers over them, but you didn’t want to disturb him.

The scene in front of you was utterly domestic – a checked tea-towel thrown over his shoulder, a thin sheen of sweat visible on his brow in the heat of the stove, his bare feet on the kitchen floor. It was a sight you could get used to, but his occupation made you unable to settle in the way you wanted.

You let your foot graze against his hip, and as he looked up at you, you smiled softly at him.

“Thank you.” you whispered. “For taking care of me.”

“Of course.” 47 replied, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, caressing your skin as he flipped the salmon with his free hand. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your heart swelled at the nickname like it always did when it slipped velvety smooth off his tongue. That, combined with the current setting, made your stomach flutter with something else than just love.

Oh, how you wanted to run your fingers over that exposed sliver of his pale chest and run them all the way down to his abdomen, where his hard muscles came down to that beautiful and soft V-shaped curve, right above his—

“(Y/n)?” You snapped out of your impure thoughts. “Hm?” “I’m almost done. Could you lay the table, please?”

Your eyes locked with his and you slightly tilted your head. “What’s for dessert?” As much as you loved 47’s cooking, since he was excellent at it, you preferred to taste him above all.

“Well,” 47 began, “I have brought those chocolates you like, and we also have some soft serve with whipped cream and—”

“Can’t we just start with the dessert?” you purred suggestively, reaching over to caress his arm. His blue eyes flickered to it, his muscles slightly flexing at your touch but soon relaxing as he realised what you were doing.

“What did you have in mind? This will all get cold if we—” “Can you just shut up and kiss me?”

You hooked your leg around his hip, pulling him towards you. His hands came to rest on either side of your thighs and you leaned in, connecting your mouth to his. 47 hummed into it, pulling back after a few seconds in order to turn off the stove.

He was soon kissing you again, though, softly sucking at your bottom lip. You took his face in your hands and deepened the kiss, tongue sliding over his without much effort.

Agent 47 took your hips and pulled you to the very edge of the countertop, fingers undoing the button of your pants before sliding it down your legs. You smiled at the action and at the practised ease he displayed while doing so before positioning himself between your legs again, so he could press his face into your neck and leave a few marks-turning-bruises.

His fingers came to rest at your jaw, tilting up your head so he could suck at your throat, tongue and teeth gentle and hot against your skin, travelling down to the top of your shirt. Without a word, you lifted your arms so he could take it off of you. Deft fingers unclasped your bra and immediately teased at your hardened nipples after disposing of it.

You sighed, popping a few buttons of his shirt as he brought his lips to rest at the nape of your neck, brushing down to suckle at the sensitive buds in the centre of your breasts. His mouth remained there whilst he opened his belt, ridding himself of the restraining fabric of his slacks.

The outlines of his erection were pressing against the cotton of his briefs and you soon fondled it, finding it steadily swelling against your palm. He pulled back from your breast and once again opted for your lips, rolling his tongue against yours deliciously.

For a moment, he reluctantly tore himself away from your mouth to focus his gaze on your heated flesh – he pried aside your panties to reveal the soaked folds of your flower, fingers parting them to find your swollen clit and tease it – albeit shortly. You softly moaned, legs jerking at the feeling of his thumb brushing at your clitoris, toes curling already.

“47…” you whimpered. “Fuck me…” “All in due time, sweetheart.” He slid your underwear off your legs and inspected your wet pussy for a second before retreating to the fridge. “Hey, where are you going?” you breathed, afraid that he was having second thoughts about this little adventure.

From the fridge, he took the bowl of whipped cream he had prepared earlier, soon returning to your side. He leaned closer to your ear, ghosting his lips over the shell whilst you rested your hands on his biceps.

“I’m in the mood for some… Cream-pie.” You shuddered at the huskiness of his voice, gripping at his arms as he licked a wet stripe from under your ear to your throat, and then, he crouched down between your legs, hot breath fanning over your drenched sex. With his finger, he took a dollop of cream and smeared it over your pussy lips without a warning.

You shivered, one hand grabbing at your own breast whilst the other gripped at the edge of the counter. “Fuck, 47…” He kissed the insides of your thighs, searing breath wafting against where you needed him most.

You didn’t need to complain for long – soon, his mouth latched onto your cunt, tongue slithering in between your labia to taste from your nectar. You moaned loudly, immediately arching your back and pressing yourself tighter against is mouth. “47…!” you mewled, “Fuck!”

He hummed against your core, tonguing at your clit for a moment. You cradled one hand behind his head, pushing him impossibly closer. His chin was slick with your juices as were his lips, eating away at you. He kissed at your folds before wrapping his lips around your sensitive clitoris, suddenly sucking it flat against his tongue.

Your stomach twisted pleasantly and you gasped his name, pleasure pulsating through you with every movement of his mouth on you. Biting your bottom lip, you whimpered, grinding against his face. He had only barely started, but you were close – undeniably close…

“Forty—” you moaned, unable to murmur his name. “Gonna cum…” you managed to gasp under the heat of his tongue on your cunt, slipping into your depths, tasting you even deeper. His thumb brushed at your clit and you gripped the edges of the counter, digging your nails inside the wood as he pushed you closer to that edge with every passing second.

“Gah!” A cry of dismay left your lips when his heat was suddenly gone before he allowed you to climax, yet he soon positioned himself between your legs again, pressing his mouth firmly to yours. You could taste a mixture of yourself and whipped cream on his tongue, the sweetness only adding to how naughty the flavour already was.

47 shimmied off his briefs and rested his cock on the expanse of your pussy, rubbing it up and down across it to lube himself up and tease you in the process. “Fuck…” you sighed, gripping at his forearms as he guided his tip into you, sliding deeper until he was fully hilted inside of you, filling you up nicely.

Agent 47 gripped at your thigh, his other hand coming to rest in your neck, thumb pressing under your chin to make you look up at him. His piercing eyes locked with yours as he began to thrust, soon increasing the pace for he knew from the clench of your walls around him that you needed him – desperately so.

You could only choke out a few moans and something sounding like his name as he stared at you, pools of blue drilling into your soul as the soft pap-pap-pap of his body colliding with yours echoed through your skull.

His breathing hitched at the feel of your tightness, his speed quickening out of instinct. 47 could not look away from your blushing face, captivated by how delicious your expression was, how your lips parted and brows knitted together in a deep frown, a tell-tale sign of your orgasm nearing.

“47…” you forced out, “You’re gonna make… Me…” You could barely find your words, but he told you that he understood by pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, tongue parting your lips right away.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him closer, snogging him deeply, and there it was. Your toes curled and you tensed, momentarily paralyzed in the moment, but electricity pulsated through you and the flicking of his fingers on your clit were no help either. With a soft cry, you orgasmed, fingers tingling as they caressed the tattoo on the back of his head, wholly familiar with its outline.

He drove his hips into you a few more times until he was sure that your high had subdued, and as soon as he removed himself from your satisfied depths, you slipped onto your knees, bringing the bowl of whipped cream that had been standing next to you along.

With one of your fingers, you took a large dollop of cream and spread it on the weeping tip of his cock, smearing it all the way to the base.

Agent 47 laced one hand in your hair as you brought your mouth to his length, your hot breath hitting his skin pleasantly. Even though he was big, you were quite experienced and it wasn’t he first time you took him in. It didn’t take long for you to establish a steady bobbing of your head, messily sucking at the whipped cream in the process.

He gritted his teeth and sighed your name, keeping himself from throwing back his head in pleasure, because you were way too beautiful to not cherish the sight. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, humming around his cock to send vibrations up his spine.

Pleasure jolted through his spine and his hand in your hair convulsed, and he muttered something akin a warning – you pulled back immediately and he leaned down to drag you back onto the counter. Right in time, because he bottomed out in one swift movement as soon as you felt the surface against your ass again, spilling himself deeply inside of you.

47 pounded into you a few more times, his spend running down your thighs whilst he pulled out, causing him to sigh softly.

“I love you, 47.” you breathed, pulling him down for a kiss. It was sweet and short, but still hot, especially combined with his seed cooling on your thighs.

“And I, you, (Y/n).” was his reply, his hand cradling your face. For a moment, he rubbed his length between your pussy lips again, spreading whatever was left around there. “A cream-pie for dessert, hm?”

You bit your lip, smiling sweetly. “Oh, 47…” you mused, pulling him closer against you, “It’s too bad that I can’t eat it myself… Why not help me do it?”

His answer was non-verbal and consisted out of his fingers plunging deeply into you, determined to give you what you wanted.

By the time this was going be over, your original dinner would be long cold.

#Agent 47 #agent 47 x reader #David Bateson #reader insert #smut

114 notes · View notes

tallstars-rewrite · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 47

chapter list / previous / next

Heatherstar had given him permission to speak at the meeting, and told him what to be discreet about. Talltail wasn’t confident whether Cedarstar would accept his word, but maybe if Ratfang had managed to convince him of her own suspicions, there was a better chance. The large patrol cautiously approached the shadowy treeline before the Thunderpath. Talltail smelled them before he saw anything under the now thickly dark cover of night. They were indeed a patrol large enough to be a threat, lined up in front of the Thunderpath tunnel, and who knew how many more were hidden.

Cedarstar stepped forward, only his pale white belly fur and glinting yellow eyes visible in the shadows.

“I hope this will be brief,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Our situation seems simple from my end. The cleanest solution is ShadowClan will forgive and forget everything in exchange for extra territory rights as compensation.“

Heathertstar growled deep in her throat. Talltail’s flinched, feeling his confidence already slipping away. That’s not a great start to fair negotiations at all.

“Do not propose such an insulting thing as reasonable when you know very well it’s not. And I can tell you once more, my clan has done nothing to warrant your behavior this past season.” her neck fur flattened ever so slightly “If you proposed this meeting to actually give reason a chance, then I will tell you that I suspect I know why this has happened.”

“I’m always ready to listen to reason.” Cedarstar said coolly.

Talltail took a small step forward to explain what he had discovered, as Heatherstar allowed him. The deputy Stonetooth sat beside his leader, and Talltail felt his narrowed glare through his scarred and squinted eye.

“I have found evidence cats purposely disguised scents to make WindClan and ShadowClan suspect each other of trespassing and insult. There were...cats working outside the warrior code trying to pit our clans against each other for their own gain.”

Heatherstar told him it was for the best for him not to directly accuse ShadowClan cats of pushing the rogue’s actions, and remain vague about the culprits at first. Their loyalty and desire to save face may be too strong. She would bring it up herself if necessary.

“It wouldn’t be completely unheard of for other cats to want us to weaken each other before the harsh season starts.” A ShadowClan warrior muttered after several silent heart-beats.

Talltail bit his tongue, wishing he could accuse Darkpaw by name.

Cedarstar paused as if considering his thoughts, but he looked, strangely, not fully surprised. Talltail wondered if he already knew his young warriors were working behind his back or not. Would he deny it? Talltail really was risking a lot on Ratfang’s assurance that Cedarstar didn’t truly want this fight. Either way, he certainly wouldn't want to look like he was backing off too easily after coming this far.

Stonetooth growled. “Why would we take the word of a deserter? Are you not a rogue yourself?”

“If this was a rogue, I would not have brought him, nor would I have let him speak.” Heatherstar said firmly. Talltail knew she was saving face in front of ShadowClan, but the defense warmed him all the same.

“‘I left my clan to pursue the rogues that I thought had wronged us. That’s how I found out.” Talltail said. That was at least true enough

“Even so, this doesn’t change the fact that WindClan broke clan law in the first place by hiring rogue mercenaries,” Stonetooth shot back.

Heatherstar glared back steadily. “We did no such thing. We had a peaceful private arrangement with a small band of loners whom we only offered medicine to, until you provoked them unjustly. Between us, I have been given information that suggests it seems you were the only one that sought their help for means of war. We know ShadowClan tried to explore our tunneling system, it is too late to deny that. One of my warriors was killed because of it.”

“And one of ours is permanently injured from it.” Cedarstar spat. “We sought information from a rogue we reasonably assumed had ill intent. There’s no cause within clan law to have outsiders living on clan territory after all. But we did not make him attack.”

“Perhaps not directly. And yet, the rogue could only have gone so far to set us at each other's throats with help from inside. Seeking to provoke an attack could easily be seen as ‘usage in times of war,’ could it not?”

Talltail held his breath while Cedarstar glared for a long tense moment, his lip curling slightly. “I have not confirmed any clan cats from my end acting on their own in this way, but I do know for certain that one of yours did! If he is WindClan again as you claim, then you are responsible for his past actions when some time ago, your runaway was caught trespassing and nearly half-blinded my deputy, and could have done much worse! That alone could be grounds for us to retaliate.”

Stonetooth had not lost his eye after all, but it was perhaps not as good as it had once been. Talltail felt hot with shame and Heatherstar bristled furiously. Unfortunately, it was true. He’d almost forgotten about his furious desperate attack on the deputy when he accidentally crossed him and Raggedpelt. Talltail was going to pay for his rashness. Of course ShadowClan would use that to deflect the accusation.

Stonetooth was bristling beside his leader. “Yes, you have no business insulting our honor when we have only ever responded to threats. Any blood spilled will be justified, and we are within our rights to defend ourselves here and now when a warrior violently invades. What's more, you clearly were making plans to invade further through unprecedented means. These tunnels you have been hiding were meant for that, will you deny that claim?” Stonetooth looked like he would have gone on, but Cedarstar raised a tail to silence him.

Heatherstar did not step back. “ShadowClan began this by trying to push boundary lines without need or cause. That particular tunneling project never reached your territory and it never will. As your unwarranted trespassing discovered.”

“I still think we are taking a lot on the word of a deserter.” Stonetooth glared daggers at Talltail. “How do we really know that all the stolen prey with WindClan scent markings on our land was because of this rogue you speak of? We had reports from several cats who say they saw WindClan with their own eyes.”

To Talltail’s surprise, a small ShadowClan apprentice made a barely audible squeaking sound. She looked afraid when eyes turned to her. She surely wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting. “Sorry...I-I was one of the ones who reported those signs, But...but it's possible we...misunderstood them. It could have been a rogue and not WindClan after all now that I think of it. We...We never saw them up close, it was a skinny cat after all.”

Talltail recognized Tanglepaw, the apprentice he’d help save from the fox. He willed her to tell the truth about Darkpaw so he could back it up, but she didn’t continue. In ShadowClan’s warrior patrol present for the talk, he caught sight of Ashheart, who stiffened and glared daggers at the back of the apprentice.

Cedarstar shifted uncomfortably, his tail lashing at the interruption. His eyes flicked to Ashheart. “Do you think that as well?”

One apprentice's word was only so good. Ashheart looked at Talltail, then down at her paws and only said, “I’m...not sure, now that I think of it. We didn’t get a good enough look.”

What, is she afraid of telling the full truth!? Talltail thought furiously. He wondered if Tanglepaw was going to take the fall all by herself to prevent the scheme Darkpaw had set up. Darkpaw can get away with a lot, Ratfang had said. It wasn’t fair, but it was better than saying nothing at all. Talltail couldn’t be the one to convince them of treachery within their clan.

“The bottom line is, we can’t give that cat what they want,” Talltail said loudly. All eyes turned to him, and he hoped Heatherstar would forgive his boldness. “I know I acted wrongly, I accidentally crossed your territory alone and had no grounds to attack, and I intend to atone for it however I can. Likewise, whoever has tried to set us up, they shouldn’t be rewarded for seeking bloodshed. Isn’t that reasonable to agree on? Do we let cats who don’t obey the warrior code guide our claws?”

Talltail met the ShadowClan leader's eyes steadily. He could deny everything, Talltail didn’t have physical proof for his claims after all. But he saw in the old leader's gaze that Cedarstar did know he was telling the truth. And Talltail hoped his narrowed gaze suggested that he knew exactly what had happened with ShadowClan’s rebellious young cats, even if Cedarstar didn’t want to admit it here. The leader glared at him, but he seemed uncomfortable. Talltail had been through too much these past moons to flinch away. You must see now your medicine cat's suspicions have merit. You know you aren’t in the right to push this invasion any further. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Cedarstar was still a clan leader, and for all the dreadful tales of ShadowClan there must be some hope that a sense of honor would shine through. If only he would allow that. Talltail looked to Heatherstar, desperate for her to be willing to give him an out to back off with his pride intact. Cedarstar was hesitant, his ears back. Perhaps all the two leaders needed was an opportunity to back away on equal terms. He didn’t think it was fair that his lashing out at Stonetooth was treated as an equal wrong to purposely trying to spiral their clans in a bloody war, but he was willing to take that hit if it would lead to a better outcome. Every cat present was rigid waiting for the leaders to speak, and Talltail swore he could feel the tension wafting off of the larger patrols of battle-ready warriors hiding somewhere out of sight on either side of the woodland strip.

But right when he thought maybe, just maybe, things could be ok after all, he heard a caterwaul from further down ranks. Everyone bristled. Someone attacked, and he had no idea who it was. The tension in the air was so thick, anything could have set a cat off.

Heatherstar hissed “You gave the signal, didn’t you? I knew this talk was a pointless distraction!”

“I did no such thing!” Cedarstar spat.

Talltail’s stomach dropped, he didn’t hear the rest of their argument as a loud yowl split the air. He’d been too hopeful. The insults were real even if their cause was false. In the dark, he saw several cats chasing each other through the trees, Stonetooth was on his paws running down the line after them, snarling that he’d sort it out himself. From the hidden lines, Talltail saw a sleek brown shape start after the deputy, as Shrewclaw needed no further motive to take off.

Talltail had no choice but to take off after the sprinting shape of Shrewclaw before he ruined everything, calling for him to wait while Heatherstar and Cedarstar snarled behind him. In the dark of night, Talltail saw feline shapes bristling in the undergrowth. He couldn’t see who they were, split off members of the battle patrols waiting and watching. Had some cats gotten too close to each other and lashed out? He heard confused snarling, saw flashing teeth, half-crouched warriors fox-lengths apart with eyes darting around in confusion. No one had been called to attack officially, and they were unsure of what to do. It was impossible to tell which side the yowling came from, or if a real fight had started or not.

A dark cat was tusseling over Hareflight, who was snapping at the little shape on his back. Hareflight would never have broken rank, this cat was just attacking on their own. Stonetooth barreled into the battle and they broke apart, but Stonetooth, still bristling and snarling, swiped at Hareflight’s whiskers as the senior warrior tried to back away. Talltail realized he’d lost sight of Shrewclaw until the furious tom was barreling past him. That swipe from Stonetooth was all the signal he needed.

“Stop!” Talltail gasped, but Shrewclaw wasn’t listening, and had piled into the wiry gray warrior before the word had left his mouth.

Stonetooth kicked away from Shrewclaw. “I knew you lot couldn’t be trusted!” he snarled, spitting blood from a cut on his lip. Talltail tried to explain, but Stonetooth was lunging at him before he could open his jaws. Shrewclaw was ready before Talltail was. He was latched onto Stonetooth’s chest and knocking him backwards in a heartbeat.

ShadowClan’s deputy being attacked was sure to catch attention. Talltail barely dodged a lunging ShadowClan warrior, who wheeled about on him again as soon as they landed. I’ve failed, this is all falling apart!

“You have to stop Shrewclaw, Heatherstar didn’t call for this!” he cried out.

If Shrewclaw heard him, he showed no sign of it. He wouldn’t stop until Stonetooth slipped in the dirt, writhing under Shrewclaw’s bite as jaws tore into his neck. Before Talltail could get closer to break them apart, the dark cat that had attacked first knocked him to the ground. It didn’t take long to realize who it was.

“You're going to pay for ruining this for me!” the cat hissed.

Darkpaw was going to start a fight whether their leaders wanted to or not, and he wasn’t going to wait around for Tanglepaw or any other cat to risk blaming him by name. He was wild and furious, and clearly had no better plan at all. Now he was just angry. Talltail kicked him back and sent him flying. Talltail was plenty angry too. Stonetooth and Shrewclaw tumbled down a gravely slope out of view, temporarily distracting Darkpaw long enough for Talltail to whack the apprentice and sending him reeling.

Talltail prepared to defend again, but it seemed that some cat else was blocking Darkpaw’s way, one of his lackeys that Talltail didn’t know by name. “Stonetooth looks bad, this isn’t going well, let's just get out of here while we can!”

Talltail looked around wildly for Shrewclaw and Stonetooth, panic rising with every breath. Chaos had kicked up. Seeing their deputy in battle sent several ShadowClan warriors out of the undergrowth and the ruckus brought WindClan down to meet them. Sliding clumsily down the gravely slope, Talltail saw Stonetooth was up again and tearing at Shrewclaw as he came down. It was vicious and frenzied and there were bloody wounds around their necks. They're going to kill each other, Talltail realized. Shrewclaw was battered, almost swaying and painfully holding up a leg that he seemed to have landed on wrong, and blood ran down his chest. Any warrior should retreat in that state, but he was seeing too much red to stay down. As Shrewclaw leaped, Stonetooth twisted around to meet him, red stained teeth barred. Talltail let out a furious yowl and caught Shrewclaw midair before he could come down on Stonetooth’s outstretched claws. Shrewclaw thudded to the ground and Talltail had to pin his foreleg to the ground as Shrewclaw, despite his injuries, tried to wrench himself free. They were outnumbered. If Stonetooth fell, he saw the warriors waiting to tear them apart in retaliation.

“Get--off!” Shrewclaw screeched

“You're going to get yourself killed! There was no call!”

“I don’t care, I won’t let you take this from me now!”

Shrewclaw kicked at him and wormed his way around Talltail as Stonetooth took a wobbly step forward. They’d barely met for a moment before Talltail thrust himself between them, wincing at the sting from two pairs of claws at once, but he wouldn’t let Stonetooth get at Shrewclaw again.

Talltail snarled, refusing to flinch away as he knocked Shrewclaw back again. Shrewclaw tried to shove him off but fell short, wheezing, spitting out blood. He was bleeding badly. So was his opponent. Stonetooth tried to scramble away but fell sideways and lay panting on the ground. Talltail stiffened, wondering if he really had been too late. Cedarstar and Heatherstar were finally there, rushing to the source of the clamor, both looking ready to leap into a fight if necessary. But the state of Stonetooth made Cedarstar stumble.

“Enough!” he yowled, his voice echoed around the trees as Cedarstar skidded to a stop over his deputy, who managed to sit upright but still couldn’t quite get to his paws, The leader turned snarling at the WindClan cats. His warriors had frozen, and WindClan hesitated, looking to their own leader, waiting for real instruction.

In the dark, an angry pair of orange eyes stared wide at the heavily bleeding deputy and ducked away. Darkpaw was of course still watching. Talltail couldn’t help wondering if he was more upset about how much trouble he could get in if their deputy died then he was about the injury itself. Talltail felt his lip curl and he shook with fury, but held his tongue.

Cedarstar’s attention was dragged from his deputy to meet a white molly and a familiar grizzled gray shape. Ratfang and her mentor Sagewhisker were there among ShadowClans ranks.

“You shouldn’t be this far,” Cedarstar hissed quietly.

Their voices were hushed among the continuing warning snarls from warriors of both clans, Talltail could only just barely hear them.

“I came at blood scent. Look at him!” The pale medicine cat gestured to the limp deputy. “Is this sign enough for you? My apprentice was right. This night has been chaotic, cats lashing out without orders. This will never end here. It will burn us out. The signs were already clear to us, and are even more so now. We warned you against this.” Cedarstar gave his medicine cat a long look. He bristled, but the ShadowClan leader did not call for further attack. Please listen to your medicine cat! Talltail willed.

Ratfang stepped closer to place a paw at Stonetooth’s wounds. “Stonetooth was more strongly in favor of this fight then most. Now he may very well die for it.” She glanced at Shrewclaw with a hopeless look that made Talltail’s heart clench up. “This is enough blood, let there be no more. The stars are not shining favorably on this night.”

He gritted his teeth and stood, whipping around to where Heatherstar stood and the rest of ShadowClan was bristling and growling.

“Do we want to end up no better than ThunderClan and RiverClan? Nearly every gathering, more reports of cats slain over the pile of rocks on their border! We’ve seen the damage it does to them!”

Cedarstar didn’t move, just stood staring at Stonetooth while Ratfang tried to help him.

Heatherstar spoke stiffly “My warrior speaks sense. I don’t want that kind of blood and rivalry to be my legacy as leader. Do you?”

“Damn the woods, then.” He heard the ShadowClan leader rasp. “I’m taking my deputy home.”

He caught Ratfang’s eye briefly as she followed her clan, trailing Stonetooth’s body between the warriors that carried him. He might make it, but only if they hurried. Her gaze was somber and she only gave him the briefest of nods. It was the best I could do, he thought.

Talltail didn’t have it in him to look back down at Shrewclaw, hearing his ragged gasps, his claws still tensed and fastened into Talltail’s legs.

“You shouldn’t have stopped me--” he managed to spit.

“Too bad.” Talltail spat back through gritted teeth.

Hareflight had already bounded to his former apprentice's side. “Stars-” the old tom hissed as he pushed his muzzle under Shrewclaw, trying to get him up. Talltail stiffened as he saw Shrewclaw couldn’t stand on his own. Too much blood, was all he could think

The bloody warrior rasped to Hareflight “Sorry for ignoring you. But I’m not sorry enough to regret it.”

“Don’t try to talk right now,” Hareflight said sternly. His stoic voice was weak.

“Of course you're not sorry, you mouse-brain.” Talltail whispered. Of course Shrewclaw would have that resolve. Talltail rushed to help Hareflight, but despair was fighting it’s way up his throat. He’d seen for the first time in moons a glimmer of hope that the two of them could come to better terms after everything. There was a possibility for so many things. Talltail couldn’t have another reconciliation stolen from him. Stonetooth was not more important than that. He had promised Briarface, and he had promised Fallowspring. He couldn’t accept this loss. He wouldn’t. Shrewclaw could spit fury for the rest of their days at Talltail for taking this fight from him, but Talltail hadn’t come back to start breaking promises now.

Shrewclaw, you can’t die like this. I’m not letting you. He willed it, and focused on that will, as if it alone could stop his bleeding. But mere will had never worked for him before. As they limped back carrying Shrewclaw between them, Talltail was preparing himself for that old familiar jolt of pain, of hollowness, that came with loss. He focused all his senses on listening to Shrewclaw’s breathing, tensing with worry that each one would be his last. He didn’t hear Heatherstar’s words to the rest of the patrol, about marking borders, sending scouts to ensure they all left. None of it mattered. Only getting his clanmate home alive mattered.

A worse battle had been avoided for now, but he knew in his heart it couldn’t last. He would face that pain. He would face hardship. That possibility was always waiting for him here. Briarface was already at their side before his brother was laid down in the medicine den. Talltail remained close by. Whatever pain would come from this, or from future battles, the only thing more painful than that reality of clan life was the thought of being too far away to help.

After a long, agonizing night of waiting, Hawkehart and Briarface rushing for their supplies, Talltail released a breath as Shrewclaw, bloody and haggard, slowly, opened his eyes and glared deep into Talltail.

“You know how important this was to me,” he hissed weakly, when no one else was close enough to hear.

Talltail stared back, impassive. “I do,” he said quietly. “And I will not apologize for not letting you die today. No matter how angry you are for it.” He angrily gestured to Briarface, anxiously sorting cobweb, Fallowspring pushing her way through the crowd with her brother, waiting to see him. “They are more important than Stonetooth. You useless mouse-brain. And you’re going to have to deal with it.”

Shrewclaw said nothing more, but as Briarface leaned over him and Talltail was forced to back out of the den, he saw Shrewclaw let out a weak sigh as his brother paused his clumsy cobweb application long enough to press his forehead against Shrewclaw’s, exasperated and heavy with relief.

chapter list / previous / next

#cw violence #canon typical violence #blood #FRU47 #chapter 47 #my behated chapter 47 #trying to write this chapter took 5 years off my life

14 notes · View notes

remmushound · 4 years ago

Text

Bay/rise 47!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @dakotafinely @yarchurr @selfindulgenz @sprinklestheditty @digitl-art-monstr @sententiously-sarcastic

Content warning: Detailing of nightmarish descriptions and blood

Raphael didn't know where he was. Only that it was an unending valley of white. Distantly, he could hear voices but he couldn’t for the life of him make out what was being said.

“Mori mo iyagaru…”

The words were like a storm cloud hanging over the weight, carrying the distorted and slow tune through the empty nothingness like frost on the wind. The sensations around him felt like cold raindrops hitting his bare skin, bouncing off shell and muscle both as the downpour covered him and almost drowned him. He knew he should be doing something, but he couldn’t figure out what that something was supposed to be.

“Bon kara saki-nya…”

That voice. Haunting melodic and warming him just as much as the air chilled him. He looked around but couldn’t see where the singing was coming from. Whoever it was, Raphael felt the need to find them and so he kept walking. Each step felt like he was wading through quicksand, and each breath was like a mouthful of water filling his lungs and making him so delirious that he just wanted to sleep.

“Yuki mo chirasuki-shi… ko mo naku shi…”

That voice again! It wouldn’t let him sleep, like a siren calling out to a sailor to dash his ship on the rocks and doom his crewmates to a cold and dark sleep. Is that why Raphael felt so tired? Maybe that was the siren's purpose, and that was why he was so cold and so slow, and he wanted to deny himself. But the song went on.

“Bon ga kita-tote nani ureshi-karo. Katabira wa nashi, obi was nashi…”

He had to find where it was coming from! He started to run, but it was like he was in a dream and every step was slower than the last. Was this a dream? Or was everything else a dream? All the things that he tried to think of as they slipped through his fingers like sand and were lost to him in the wind. What were they? Who were they? He could hear their voices but couldn’t place them to faces, only feelings. Love, protect, shelter. Love, protect, shelter…

“Kono ko you naku mori wo ba irjiru.”

Love, protect, shelter. Love, protect, shelter. Love, protect, shelter.

“Mori mo ichi-nichi yaseru-yara…”

Love, protect, shelter. Love, protect, shelter. Love, protect, shelter!

“Hayo-mo yuki-taya kono zaisho koete.”

He was getting tired. So very tired. But he had to keep going. He had to find the ones he loved and the one he’d protect and the ones he'd shelter. They were close, so close he could feel their hands in his. Feel their bodies against his! He could feel them getting closer and closer, yet still they managed to keep away from him. He just needed to get back to them, but he wasn’t even sure who he was!

“Mukou ni mieru wa, oya no uchi…”

He saw something and a part of him got excited thinking it was one of the ones he’d lost. But another part of him told him that he didn't know who this was, but it most certainly wasn’t one he was looking for. Was he the one singing? No, not that either. He was just sitting there, back to Raphael, not moving.

“Excuse me?” Raphael called, but the figure didn't turn to meet him. “Do you know where we are? Hello?”

Raphael reached him after what seemed an eternity and put a hand on the stranger's shoulder. Raphael didn't even see the stranger turn around; one minute, his back was to the mutant and the next they were face to face, except the other didn't really have a face. It was a skeleton, charred black, his empty eyes staring into Raphael and his jaw slack without muscles to hold it in place. The skeleton slumped into Raphael’s touch, turned to dust and fell apart, the cloud of black swallowed Raphael whole.

“Anata ga hitori de iru… you are… alone…”

Raphael felt as if he were choking on ash now instead of water. The ground beneath his feet fell apart and took him with it into a sudden black abyss to contrast the white that had recently engulfed him. Looking up revealed quickly fading light, and looking down was nothing but a dark pit, hot and sticky on him like tar as he fell and fell and fell and suddenly, he wasn’t falling anymore, but he couldn’t remember landing either. The black remained.

The sound around Raphael was warped like he was underwater, that song playing all around him and again with no clear singer. Raphael tried to run again but looking down he had no feet to run with! It was like the tar was slowly swallowing him whole. No— no no no no no NO NO NO NO!

When he opened his eyes, he was in a field, like an island surrounded once more by the white ocean of emptiness. He looked down and instead of tar found grass beneath his feet. He twisted his toes into the softness of the earth. He closed his eyes and gave the softest of churrs as he felt the wind blowing through his mask, taking in the coolness of the air. When he opened his eyes, he was still in the field, but it was distorted by war. Blood stained the grass red, and the air was putrid with smoke that choked the very life from Raphael’s chest. The blood kept rising in a steady flow as blurred silhouettes were cut and slaughtered before Raphael in a raging bloodbath. The blood kept rising and there was nowhere to go— and then it swallowed Raphael and though he tried to swim it was too thick and when he could hold his breath no longer, the taste of iron flooded his mouth and his senses and—

He fell to his knees gasping, back in the beautiful green field as if nothing had happened. Like not a drop of blood had ever tainted the sacred place. He looked over himself and saw no red beyond what was normal, but the taste in his mouth still lingered. Instead of those violent silhouettes engaged in an unyielding battle, he saw only two humans. A tall silhouette laughing as he lifted a young child high above his head, twirling her around ever so gently. Like a father would. Then he put her down and leaned to kiss her on the head.

She swatted playfully at her father as she fell over on her back, speaking gracefully in a tongue Raphael knew. “Oh dad! Leave me alone!”

The father-figure laughed as he grabbed her cheeks and gave her a raspberry on the nose. She swiped at him once more like a playful kitten until her father finally relented and let her sit back up.

“Remember, my little Karai. You are never alone.”

Those words echoed in Raphael’s mind like the ringing of a bell as the scene went up in flames, and then Raphael saw the girl, Karai, older than she was before, maybe in her teens. She was clutching at her hair and sobbing as she flames trapped her, repeating over and over again that she was not alone. She was not alone. She was not alone.

Then the scene changed again. Raphael hardly recognized the father figure as he kneeled before a powerful creature. An oni. His face and arms were badly burned but he was alive, and he seemed to be begging for something. And then Raphael saw what it was. The oni pulled from within his vessel a kura kabuto shining with mystic fire.

The next thing Raphael beheld was the girl, all grown up now with hair like the frill of a cobra flowing behind her in wind Raphael could not feel. Her body was emblazoned with marks of green and her eyes shined the same. Above her heart and on her shoulder were matching tattoos of a twelve-petaled lotus with a six-pointed star in its middle. She wielded twin katana, both working independently of each other in fluid motions. On either side of her, colorful soldiers stood in similarly strong stances.

Kappa. Four of them— two on either side. To her right were red and orange, and to her left blue and purple. Compared to her they were no bigger than a child of ten would be, but they wielded their weapons with all the skill of seasoned warriors. Raphael felt as if he were spinning. Spinning and spinning until he came to face what they were facing. Shredder.

Raphael fell back and the image shattered once more into blackness, the soldiers blipping out of existence one by one. Green, orange, blue, purple… and it left the red kappa alone and falling to the ground as he clutched his plastron. He cried out in a grief that Raphael, though he couldn’t hear it, felt in the pit of his stomach. Mourning. Lost. Alone. Then he, too, was gone.

“Why are you showing me this?” Raphael called to the blackness that had returned to him yet again. “Why?!”

His only answer came in the form of his echo. That is, until the echo started to shift into a voice that wasn’t his own. With each return of his echo, the voice shifted and changed so subtly that it took Raphael until the very last echo to hear the change.

“Let me help you…”

“Dad…”

Raphael felt as if fifteen years of life were slammed back into him all at once, and he was lifted off his feet as memories forced their way down his throat and into his mind, making him cry in pain that, while it was most certainly in his mind, felt as real as being torn in two. He could have sworn it— he thought between the memories that bombarded him— that his plastron was being pried apart. He looked down at his plastron and brought his hands to touch the shell and when he brought it back, he was bleeding. He was being torn apart! Drained…

“No…” Raphael remembered it all now. He remembered it and he was furious! “NO!”

The decayed skeletons returned to torture him, repeating their nasty words of torment as they circled him and tried to cast him back down into the pits. But he refused.

“Anatawa Hitorijanai… I am not alone!” He screamed at the skeletons in turn, “AND NEITHER ARE YOU!”

#in his mind #so many references in this one

33 notes · View notes

whump-town · 4 years ago

Text

A Cumbersome And Heavy Body

Chapter One: Tired Of This Body

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn't going to go down without a fight. It's just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word count: 7,883

Author’s Note: ugh... well, here it is. Don’t be afraid to send me hate mail or leave a comment. I love it when I make you guys sad (in a loving way of course) :)) good luck you little shits and may the odds be ever in your favor (FYI, they’re not)

Warning: the subject of this fic is cancer and it’s treatment, cursing, maybe out of character (idk, man. hotch is weird)

I've grown tired of this body Cumbersome and heavy Tired of this body Fall apart without me

“I understand you’re here with concerns of a mass you found—”

He was shaving. The mirror fogged from his shower and the room heavy with steam. Leisurely, he’d wasted time getting ready. That particular morning, he’d gotten up before his alarm and he was happy for the distraction of the near-boiling water pouring over his back while the cold tile bites into his shoulder. An easy stress-reliever before the day fully starts.

Dragging a cool rag over his face he’d caught sight of a slightly swollen place on his chest. He’d dropped the rag in the sink and gently probed the area. He’d expected the sting of a bruise, not a knot of hard lumps.

It wasn’t a bruise.

“I regret to inform you—”

He hadn’t even known there were lymph nodes in the chest.

“Can you take your shirt off for me, sir?”

There’s a whole staff of people fluttering and dodging his eyes. A blur of motion as they work around him. Of them all, Hotch has already developed a soft spot for. Dr. Fitz and the glasses that are too big for his face despite his attempts to make them fit his face. There are rubber bands wrapped around the earpieces to push them tighter around his head and a piece of tape holding one of the lenses in. It’s strangely endearing.

No matter how many times Hotch tells Dr. Fitz that Aaron works just fine, he still nervously throws in the courtesy. He’s just like Reid and it’s that thought that makes him both comfortable and so unbearably alone.

With a nod, Hotch tugs his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his pants. The cold air hits his bare chest and he holds his breath for a moment, shivering slightly before he takes control once again. Foyet’s scars are on broad display for the whole room but, to their credit, none of them blink. They’re not here to dissect the scars covering his body or take stock of the weight he’s put on.

He just goes where he’s pulled. If he flinches when they touch him, no one comments. It’s for the better, mostly.

“The tattoo is going to guide the external beam radiation at your tumor,” Dr. Fitz explains once again. His hands tremble slightly as they hold the little needle in his hands. “It’s just three dots.”

Hotch nods, his mouth a little too dry. This whole process a little too much. He nods his understanding, fists clenched at his side to force himself to show no outward reaction. It doesn’t bother him as much as it should those dots are going to be with him forever. His first and last tattoo.

Forcing a steadying breath, he glues his eyes to the ceiling. It stings but it’s not unbearable. The needle digs into his chest, pushing the ink in. It’s the second and third dot that get him. His skin is getting hot, sore enough to make him gunt as the last one is placed.

“Not nearly as fun as a normal tattoo,” one of the other doctor’s observes. Hotch, blinking back tears, looks over at his other doctor. A woman whom he’d never have figured the “tattoo” type. His brain is a little preoccupied, worn down. He’ll get over not profiling her very well, he just might not forgive himself for the slip-up.

Hotch just… grunts. Not a real answer but the easiest.

He’s offered a hand up but he doesn’t take it. Shoulders sore and arms weak, he pushes himself up. Leaning to the side when his head starts to pound, his mouth really, really dry.

“Alright—” a cold gloved finds his shoulder. “You’re just panicking,” he’s reassured. “You need to breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” The hand squeezes his shoulder but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. It feels like he’s going to pass out. But… he doesn’t. He breathes as instructed and slowly, the room calms back down.

As he peels his eyes open, chest tight and hands trembling, he finds the room still every bit as busy as it was before his little fit. The world really doesn’t stop.

“Are you sure—,” Dr. Fitz twists and worries his hands. Obviously, he’s worked himself up too. Probably blaming himself for Hotch’s reaction. He should have let him take a break or warned him a little better. “Most people find it helpful to have someone here,” Dr. Fitz observes. “Do you— Do you want to call someone?”

His eyes drop to the floor, his mind-- Haley. She would be here. Cracking jokes and poking at his side. Things used to be so much easier with her around. There was this magic about her, a drug her presence doped him up. She would light the room up and hold his hand. She’s not here, though. She’s dead and he’s having a hard time convincing himself this isn’t some sort of penance.

Snuffing out a light like her, it was bound to have its consequences.

They’ve marked him and with his advanced stage, he’s got an aggressive treatment plan, and the radiation starts tomorrow. So, no. No, he doesn't want to call anyone. He just wants to serve his time. Besides, who would he call?

JJ? With two children of her own and a painfully busy schedule.

Reid? His mother occupies his mind as is.

Morgan? He’s grappling with a relationship with Savannah, attempting to salvage all of the complex things life has thrown at him.

Dave? Hasn’t he already lost a child? The last thing he needs is to sit here for any given amount of time and watch this.

And he’d never, never put Garcia through this.

“No,” he rasps, laying back down. “I’m okay.”

He closes his eyes and when a single hot tear runs down his cheek, he doesn’t wipe it away. I’m okay.

I’m okay.

There aren't immediate side effects and he’s not sure if that’s a relief or worse. He’s anxious, nearly sick with nerves. Would it not be simpler to just get sick already? To throw up or get sore or just— anything.

The machine hurts his ears. Fifteen minutes of lying perfectly still gets hard after about two minutes. The whole process exacerbated by the way the low hum of the machine makes his head feel like someone’s digging at his skull with an icepick through his ear.

He’s assured he shouldn’t start feeling any symptoms for a few days. Likely not until the second week of treatments.

It takes five days for a stitch in his side to take his breath for a moment, doubling over as he struggles to breathe for a moment. Chest tight and head fogged. They just add another pill bottle to the other whole collection he’s accumulated on his nightstand.

It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on his chest. A hand gripping a fist full of his hair and dunking his head back under the water. Ties binding his wrist to the bed. A knife buried in his side.

It feels like the ground he’s standing on is rumbling, shifting beneath his feet and at any given moment it’s going to pitch him forward. A free fall and he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to land on his feet.

He’s staring at the ceiling. Fists gripping the sheets as his stomach twists and churns. Swallowing around the uncomfortable burn in his throat, he turns his head to the side. Watching the movements just outside his bedroom window. Jack’s outside, kicking his soccer ball, and waiting for Daddy to come to join him. Hotch, will have to join him sooner rather than later. Even with the yard fenced in, anything could happen out there.

Funny. Just a few weeks ago, anything could have been blown under the rug with “at least it’s not cancer”. Now he’s plotting his will out in his head, making sure he covers every little thing. Who will lead the team? Where will Jack go? Can Jessica handle arrangements and should he start preparing the comfort letters now?

In the face of it all, he’d thought he could accept this. Life goes on. Things happen. He doesn’t want to die. All of those poems, the books, and the lies. “Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.” Well, that’s right shit, in his opinion. What comes next? Not light. Not hope. His body will succumb to cancer leaving behind the carnage of his actions.

Hodgkin's Lymphoma…

He’d known, in that morbid way his thoughts tend to twist, that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. That it would be silly for the doctor to smile, sympathetic to his plight, and advise him to talk to his therapist about this new progression of paranoia. For a pat on the back. Instead, he got the cold examination table under his back, and the nurse giving his trembling hand a squeeze as the needle had plunged into his chest.

It’s all been a haze since that phone call. Since the confirmation. Now he’s got more blood tests scheduled for Monday. That’s what his life is now. Radiation for fifteen minutes for four days a week. On the fifth day, he gets blood work drawn. They check for enzymes and cells. He doesn’t really care to understand.

He should. Don’t mistake the careless, numb ache thinking about all this gives him for complete inattention to detail. It’s just a little much for one person.

Hotch finds himself wondering what Reid would tell him about the whole process. Statics that would knock the wind from his lungs and odds that would make him feel just a little better. That he’s too old and too stressed out. That radiation aimed at his chest can harden his arteries and increase his already high chances of a heart attack. That he should have seen this coming-- his father died at 47. Lung cancer. A heart attack.

He should have seen it coming.

“Daddy?”

He has to lean into his nightstand as the ground warps beneath his feet. “I’m coming,” he manages, closing his eyes and blindly hoping that his door is shut and Jack can’t see him. He wishes he’d smoked more. Indulged in Dave’s cigars. Gone drinking with Derek. Danced like Penelope. Fuck, smiled more.

He didn’t even know there were lymph nodes in the chest. He’d gone to law school. Spent his early adulthood learning to read complex course material and how to cry softly in a room with another person less than five feet from him. Maybe he should have studied Biology… but then he’d just have to come to terms with the fact that this whole mess was bound to happen. Predisposed. Genetic and environmental.

His fault.

--------------------------------

Six in the morning is not a typical time to be fielding calls from concerned police officials. “He—Hello?” Which, now that phone is tucked under his chin, and the call answered, he realizes that he should have checked the caller ID. As stated, is it six in the morning and he doubts anyone too important is calling him at this hour.

Unless, of course, his luck has finally run out and yet another political disaster has occurred. Leaving him to clean the wreck.

The other end makes a strange noise before he’s greeted with, “--finally! I was almost worried you wouldn’t answer!”

Oh.

Emily.

“Morning,” he greets, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’s a little too grumpy for this right now but she’s obviously called for a reason, her happiness seeping into tone, and he’s not going to purposely ruin that. How many hours ahead is London, again? Why is she awake?

“I was worried,” she admits. He can hear her working, the drag of her pen across paper, and the shift of the leather chair she’s sitting in. Even her keyboard clicking away as she multi-tasks. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Home. He smirks, she’s been overseas now for several years. Yet, she still refers to Virginia as home. The thought makes him shake his head. He’d never draw the conclusion out loud to her but he can imagine that little slip-up is one of the reasons that her on-again-off-again boyfriend Michael grows frustrated with her. It’s not her fault. It’s an understandable mistake but it certainly reflects a certain tone for her affections of London.

Her preferences.

“They’re fine,” he answers, evenly. “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” He pauses to splash water across his mouth, preparing to wash his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

He places his phone on speaker and sets it on the shelf above his sink. Ducking his head, he listens to her while he washes his face. Going about the habitual process of shaving. A comforting thing he’s always done. He’s got no preference when it comes to facial hair. A beard is just as easy as a clean face. It’s about shaving. It’s soothing. It’s one of the few things that’s remained constant in his life.

She’s talking-- he thinks about how the weather in London has hit a point in the season that she doesn’t particularly like. Raining and cold. That she wants to come home but she isn’t sure she should. Will she really be able to tear herself away from the Virginia weather? From them?

He’s half-way done shaving when his eyes drift to his shirtless chest.

He wonders how many times he shaved, how many mornings did he wake up before he realized-- before he saw the tumor or the lump or mass or whatever the hell the medical term is. He lowers his head, sighing in defeat but mostly anger. How’d he let it get to this?

“Anyways,” she sighs. Sounding every bit as tired as he feels. “How is home? How are you?”

He looks at himself in the mirror. His head is absent of reason. No logic or forethought.

“I have cancer.”

-------------------------------- Everything about Aaron Hotchner is traditional and simplistic. It’s not a bad thing. In the years that she's known him, she’s grown fond of that. It makes him predictable and reliable. Something that happens infrequently in people the older that she gets. A part of her does feel wrong for clinging to that, to him, but she cherishes his friendship. Through the ups and downs.

Their means of communication are letters. Once a week she can expect to find two to three pages of neatly written updates on her family across the pond. He’ll ramble about anything in those letters and that’s what she enjoys about them the most. There is no hesitation to tell her what he thinks. In those letters, she can find Aaron. Incredible soft, thoughtful Aaron.

It’s been two weeks since he’s sent a letter. Not to sound clingy but she’s kind of hurt. More so, she’s nervous to find out what’s taking up so much of his time. He’s routine with his responses. Almost every Thursday night she can curl up with his newest letter and a glass of wine and read about the BAUs newest adventure. It’s always a bonus when throws in his subtle little “I” statements. I miss you’s come rare but when they do happen it’s nice.

Sighing, she caves. It’s Friday, she hasn’t heard from him in two weeks, and she misses him. By the time she has his contact picture pulled up and the ring tone dialing-- his goofy picture from his badge grinning at her-- she realizes that her eleven am is his six am. Just as she’s starting to think he won’t answer it goes through.

“H--Hello?” he sounds like shit. Over the course of the last year, she’s managed to forget what he sounds like. His voice is startlingly deep which does surprise her just a little.

“Finally!” she mumbles. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

He yawns and it makes her smile. “Morning,” he grumbles and she can hear him scratching tiredly at his face. She feels guilty for waking him up for only a moment. That is until she remembers he gets up at six. So it’s likely she called right after his alarm clock went off.

Tucking her phone between chin and shoulder, she turns her computer on. Settling in behind her desk and getting to work. “I was worried,” she tells him. Not sure if she’s meaning to sound mad at him for not sending his “everyone’s alive and well�� letter or mad that she doesn’t know how he is. He’s thrown her off her routine. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Her worry bleeds into the statement but he’s too tired to feed it or make fun of it.

She can hear him huff softly, an almost laugh.

“They’re fine,” he answers softly. His voice is drowsy, “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” She hears the tap run, he pauses, and she can hear him splashing water on his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

She smirks, it was raspberry. Although, she doubts Garcia liked it as much as he says. She’s not a huge raspberry fan. Besides, Emily had sent that tea with one specific tea drinker in mind: him. The thing about Hotch is, he’s traditional, but he’s also complicated. That’s just Hotch for “I enjoyed the tea you sent”.

Really, she’d just wanted him to be introduced to more teas than his just his simple black tea. Be more creative. Have some fun.

“I’m glad Garcia liked the tea,” she says with a smirk. “She’s been texting me all week.” Pictures, texts, and a few Snapchat. Emily doesn’t entirely know how to use Snapchat yet but she’s getting the hang of it. “You guys being grounded is relaxing, I’m sure, but that woman’s got way too much time on her hands.” Emily shakes her head at the thought. Lovingly, of course.

“Anyways,” she runs a hand over her face and she lets out a sigh. “How is home? How are you?”

There’s a long pause on his end. All his busy movements coming to a halt. It makes her heart pick up its pace, her gut twisting. Suddenly, that knee-jerk thought, that stupid thought that something might be wrong feels true. She’s just about to say his name when his voice cuts through.

“I have cancer.”

Her first reaction is oh. At least she was right.

That is immediately followed by-- oh fuck.

“Are you…” she swallows thickly, work forgotten. “Have--” Where does she even begin?

He clears his throat, “Hodgkin's Lymphoma.” He answers without her actually having to ask. It feels to get it off his chest, literally. To tell someone. “I guess--” he makes a choked sound like the shock of this news is setting in again. “They have to put, uhm, ink to locate the right place. So, I… I have a tattoo of sorts now.”

She laughs a half-pained sound. “I’m sure Morgan doesn’t consider it to be a tattoo,” she manages around the tightness of her throat. She cringes at the thought, ink and a needle just digging into his flesh. Cancer invading his body.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but when he does, she understands the silence.

“I haven’t told them.”

As much as she wants to be mad at him, she shouldn’t really expect anything different. He’s painfully shy and private. God knows if she hadn’t found him half-dead in the hospital after Foyet, he’d have gone as long as possible without telling them. He certainly wouldn’t have told them while still hospitalized.

It’s the same lack of forethought that goes through them, a moment of blindness. He’d felt the weight of restraints pulling his limbs down when the admissions had left his lips. She feels only conviction, “I’m coming home.”

It catches him entirely off guard.

She winces when he starts coughing. His first symptom since starting radiation. It’s a horrible sounding dry cough that makes her lungs ache just to hear.

The coughs fold him over, the force at which they leave his mouth is painful. What is it that makes coughing so painful? That’s never made much sense. It’s just air, right?

“Hotch?”

He rubs at his sternum, trying to externally soothe the muscles. “I’m okay,” he chokes. Shakily, his right-hand bears his weight as his left turns the faucet on. With his palm, he manages to sip a few mouthfuls of water. It just doesn’t stop the coughing. “I’m okay.”

She highly doubts that. There’s not a single thing about what she just heard that sounds “okay” by anyone standards-- certainly not his. “Are you going to work like this?” she asks. It’s hard to believe he’d allow himself to be seen in any state that isn’t tip-top shape. On that note, she also knows that way too good at putting on a show, and, for profilers, the team sucks at making that distinction.

The anger that evokes in him is undue. Admittedly, he overreacts. “I said I’m fine,” he barks. “I don’t need you checking in on me, Prentiss. I don’t need you here, too!” To watch. It’s bad enough, okay? That he’s going to have to tell his six-year-old son that he’s dying. Each morning a little more than the last and some days feel like he’s already half-lowered into the ground.

And the others. Reid and those sad eyes. The way Morgan won’t be able to look at him, just avert his gaze and storm out of the room. Dave’s crushing hug and JJ’s silent tears. Garcia… He can only imagine the raging in-betweens of what the news will do to her. Stress baking cookies he won’t be able to stomach. Knitting him hats, sweaters, and blankets with feverish vigor that he won’t be able to escape.

He could use one of Garcia’s love knitted blankets right about now.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he relaxes his tight grip on the sink. Knuckles paled and fingers aching.

“Sorry,” Emily finally manages after the long moments of silence.

Hotch hangs his head, biting his lip hard to stop the flow of emotions trying to work their way up. “No,” he rasps, thickly. He sniffles, scoffing when he rubs his eyes with the back of his wrist, finding tears. “That was… inexcusable. I’m so sorry,” he leans down, body in half as he rests his forehead against the cool porcelain of the sink.

This doesn’t even feel like his body anymore.

“Aaron?”

There are tears streaming down his face, he’s too tired to fight them off. “Hmm?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

He hums in agreeance, unable to trust his voice.

“Take it easy, okay? I love you.”

The line dies before he can hasten out a reply.

--------------------------------

She’s been waiting on a reason to leave London for longer than she’s willing to admit.

Her dying friend proves to be reason enough.

Clyde has obvious mixed feelings but he can’t hold her back. He and Hotch had gotten set on the wrong foot. The rivalry between the two men is childish but endearing. Almost nothing has made her feel as loved as the proud smiles they both wear when she greets them. Clyde overwhelmingly pleased he’d won her back to London and Hotch smug she’ll travel hours to come to see him (she hadn’t done that for Clyde).

Almost nothing beats that.

“Emily!”

Her eyes are scanning the crowd before her, searching for her mismatched ragtag family. Sore thumbs, bobbing up and down in the crowd, they wave her to them. She notices he’s not there immediately.

“Princess,” Morgan sighs her name into her hair and she turns her face into his shoulder. Drawing in the strength she can feel wavering with a new wave of anxiety washing over her. It helps that they’re here. Derek’s arms wrapped around her after what feels like a lifetime away.

It’s only taken her three decades but she’s found her family and she’s not letting anything drag her away this time.

Garcia pushes at Morgan, causing a choked laugh out of them all. “Stop hogging all the Emily-lovings!”

Morgan smirks, trying to hide the relief swelling in his eyes like tears. He gets one more good look of her, eyes combing over her before parting with a sad smile. Relieved.

There’s a blur of motion. She’s pulled to each of them.

Garcia hugs like she’s trying to crush ribs and Emily lets her.

Hugging Dave brings tears to her eyes. Fuck, she’s missed them.

“Don’t make me chase you,” Emily threatens when she spots Reid near the edge. Pulling him close she rests her head against his shoulder, happy when he squeezes her back. “I’ve missed you, boy wonder.” Her genius. Just as scrawny as when she left him. She doesn’t want to do that again anytime soon.

Dave claps his hands together, grabbing one of the three bags she’d dropped. “Let’s get lunch, kiddos. We can talk about London.” He winks at Emily and she knows that this is going to spin into a conversation about potential love interests. She hasn’t had love on the brain in a while.

London… not everything she wishes it was. Cold and rainy. Relentlessly.

For the first month, she was over there, all she wanted was to come home. She just kept waiting for the rain to ease up. Then there should be that wet, hot humidity that clings to everything. She’d hated that before but now she’d just give anything to have it. For Reid to drag her out for coffee and the sun to bring out the chipper inflection in Garcia’s voice.

How the sun looked on Jack and Henry’s little head when she’d run around the park with them.

Fuck London, she’s just glad to be home.

“So,” she’s allowed them their fill of questions. Things about INTERPOL and if she’s still leaning heavily on take out food or if she’s managed even the faintest bit of finesse concerning cooking (she hasn’t). Leaning onto her elbows, she asks the question that’s been bugging her for hours. “Where’s Hotch?”

Dave leans back in his chair and JJ’s the first to crack. Of course, her poker face just isn’t that great. Her eyes move to Dave, concern written across her face. They might not know but it’s not that hard to figure out they know something isn’t right.

Reid shifts uncomfortably, averting his eyes, and focus.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Dave informs her. He settles back in his chair, arms crossing on his chest. “He’s…” he sighs tiredly. For a moment he just shakes his head. Rubbing a hand over the coarse hair on his face and then rubbing at his eyes. “He’s Aaron,” Dave mumbles. “Complicated and… reserved.” He looks at her now, zeroed in on just her. Just them.

Her heart races at just the thought of them knowing.

JJ clears her throat. She distracts her worry with rubbing her nail at the glass. “He says he’s at meetings,” she tells Emily. “Says--” she shakes her head, flustered. Upset. Pulling in a breath, she shakes softly as it comes in. “Every day, he sends me an update email. Just a list of things he expects to get done for the day or places he might be.” JJ tucks a strand of her hair back from her face. “Our jobs circle around each other, a lot. It makes my life easier if I can find him without running all over the place.”

Morgan turns his head, away from the conversation. Wishing to be uninvolved but unable to escape.

“He’s lying,” JJ concludes. She worries her lip with her teeth. “His lists are…” her eyebrows furrow as she struggles to say exactly what she means. “Last week,” she says with a nod, having come up with her perfect example. “He said he’d be in a meeting. Didn’t tell me where, he always tells me where.” Her eyes scan over the table, looking for more. “Something’s wrong and he won’t tell us.”

Morgan huffs, shifted now so that his arms are wrapped tightly around himself. His legs crossed, even. Distant. “I don’t see why we don’t just let him be.” His tone betrays what he’s really feeling. That anger and the vulnerability. His words are reflexive. He’s always pushed away when things get tough.

Emily wants to rise to his defense or to say anything but she can’t.

“Reid went into his office yesterday--”

Reid flinches. The memory or the feeling, he draws himself in. Shielding himself from whatever is being said.

Garcia looks down at her lap.

“He was asleep at his desk,” Dave finishes, despite seeing just how uncomfortable Garcia and Reid look. “Out like a-- Asleep like he hadn’t rested in a while. It took-- I had to shake him awake. He was warm to the touch and shaking.” Dave looks down to the table. “Shaking. He was weak and I’d known,” he looks up, frowning sadly. “I’d known something was wrong before but whatever is, we’ve got to get to the bottom of it.”

The bottom of it… God, they’re going to be devastated.

Lunch brightens. It’s forced to when the conversation shifts to the children. To Henry starting fourth grade and Jack’s in middle school now. Since when did those babies grow up?

Sooner than maybe she’s ready for it, she has to leave them. She’s too tired, too jet-lagged.

And maybe… Maybe she’s ready to bother Hotch. To reacquaint herself with his grumpy, silent nature. Isn’t it silly to think she’d hated him once?

Now she knows where his house keys are hidden.

The key hits the lock and she realizes how this might not be as great of a plan as she had planned it to be. “Hotch,” she calls into the dark. She peaks around, hoping if he’s home he’s not on edge. She’s seen him hypervigilant, she knows this is an awful plan. Even calling ahead might not have been enough. So, it’s more than brave for her to just come barging in.

She puts her back near the coat rack, still hunched into herself in case he comes barreling around the corner. He doesn’t. “Aaron?” His car is out front, despite the darkness of the room suggesting the house is empty. The blinds are drawn shut, blocking all-natural light into the house. The air is cool. “Aaron if you’re here please, please don’t shoot me.”

Shutting the door behind her, she progresses into the living room. The creaking of floorboards draws her attention to the other side of the house and she spots him.

He comes around the corner of the hall, from the direction of his room. Tired eyes move up to find her, his lip quirks into half a smile. “Emily,” he greets under his breath. He’d heard the door open but the binds weighing his wrist and ankles to the bed had been too much for him to lift. Pained and slowed, he’d made his way to figure out who was home.

Certain it’s not Jack, he should have had a little more trepidation about coming out here to investigate.

She approaches him slowly, soaking in every line and angle of his body. The way he’s favoring his right side is a new thing but the crescent moons under his eyes are a comforting familiarity. Pulling in a breath, she drags her eyes all the way up to him. He’s lost some weight and it just makes his cheekbones that much more hauntingly sharp. It draws attention to the scars on his face, thin and aged.

With a smile, she shakes her head at him. “Just as ugly as when I left,” she informs him.

He smiles tiredly, sighing at her playful taunt. It makes the hug she pulls him into relieving. The aches and chills he’s felt all day lessen as she wraps her arms around him. Something about the way her hand cups the back of his neck while the other rubs his up along his spine.

She’s standing on the tips of her toes, stretching to get to him. He leans down into her, closing his eyes. She just holds him that much closer. Against her, she can feel the beating of his heart. The way his nerves had amped his heart rate up and now, as the beat slows, the way he calms under her touch.

“How are you?” she asks quietly. They pull apart and she feels the absence of his warmth immediately.

He pulls in a weak breath, one he lets out a strangled cough. Shakes his head and offers a shrug. “I’m okay,” he assures her.

She doesn’t fail to notice how his right hand shakily reaches out to steady him against the wall. They’ve never agreed on the definition of okay and, so, it’s not that surprising they wouldn’t now.

Burying a cough into the elbow of his arm, he starts to tremble. His breathing takes a heavy quality as he stands there. It takes only a moment for him to draw himself up to his full height, swallowing down against the pain and forcing his body to bend to his will. If she didn’t know better, nothing would look wrong at all.

“Can I get you anything,” he asks, clenching his teeth to keep steady despite how exhausted he feels. “How long are you staying?” He knows she won’t actually answer that first question, so he steps by her and lets her follow him into the kitchen. Hyper-aware of the way he moves his body. Trying to look normal instead of stiff.

She follows him, watching for clues in the slips of his armor. One of the many benefits of having known him so long and knowing him well is that he can’t get much past her. “I’m staying for as long as I’m welcome,” she replies. It’s better than the truth, that she’s staying until he’s better.

He appreciates her choice of wording even if the truth is still there underneath it all. Leaving him the burden of the situation, which is considerably worse.

He sticks with a simple hum of understanding, knowing she’ll understand it as such. “Staying where,” he asks. Suspecting he already knows the answer. “Here?” He fills two glasses with water, desperate to soothe his dry mouth. Turning to her, he offers the first glass.

She accepts the glass without comment. “I didn’t think about where,” she lies, smirking over the glass rim at him. He shakes his head but doesn't comment. “Here would be good though.” She looks up at him and he shakes his head with a smile. “It would!” she defends. “I know you miss me and I could help around with Jack. If you won’t admit to it, I know he will.” Her smile twists mischievously, “besides, he’s my favorite Hotchner and I’ll make time to spend with him regardless of where I stay.”

He shakes his head but he’s already formulating how to move the guest room around to accommodate her. There’s not much in there. A bed with some regular looking sheets and two or three boxes of random things.

Putting her glass down on the counter she sighs. “We don’t need to worry about that right now.” Nodding her head back towards the hall she says, “you look miserable. Go to bed.”

He realizes that while she was talking he’s slowly started leaning more and more on the counter. Accumulating a lean to ease the aches wracking his body. She’s right. He looks miserable because he is. He’s exhausted.

“Do you need to take any medication?”

He shakes his head, not letting it bother him when she tucks herself against his side. Allowing him to lean into her. He doesn't but the warmth her body brings is pleasant enough to keep him going.

He took everything he needed this morning. The medicine for the radiation rash he’s developed across his chest, the preventative pills for the fibrosis that might build in his lungs because of the radiation, and a whole other list of things he can’t really remember. He just has the bottles on his nightstand and knows that most require two dosages.

His bed is warm and soft, his eyes closing against his will. Logically, he knows he shouldn’t let her see him like this. This is his battle and he doesn’t want to burden anyone else with it. There’s a comfort in sharing, though. Rather it be the brush of her fingers on his forehead, pushing back his crazy or the kiss she presses to his temple before whispering “get some sleep, Hotch”.

And, honestly, he’s tired of being alone.

“Emily?”

She turns in the doorway.

“Thank you.”

Someone has to be here. She wants to be here. “You’d do the same for me.”

--------------------------------

Legs crossed, hair pulled into a half-assed knot atop her head she watches him curiously. He’s up an hour later than she’d expected. No coffee to go along with the egg he has for breakfast. Between them, they have an entire morning spent without nearly a word. Just a simple, “do you want an egg?”

He gets ready but not for work.

“What’re you doing?”

She gets ready too. For what, she’s not sure, but she’s interested none-the-less. Even if she thinks she knows the answer. It’s very interesting, she thinks, to step into the living room and find him staring dumbly back at her. No, not interesting. It’s fun.

Stepping around him, she pulls her coat off the rack. “Isn’t it obvious,” she asks, slipping her feet into the boots. “I’m coming with you.”

Flannel and jeans aren’t his typical go to but it’s a relaxed look. One she finds she doesn't hate.

He crosses his arms on his chest, eyebrows furrowed and a stern frown in place. Startlingly in control for a man she watched choke down half an egg before calling it quits. He hadn’t even had coffee. Now he shifts his weight, left to right. “Emily this isn’t--” he just stands with his mouth open. After a moment he shakes his head. “You don’t want to come.”

So it is treatment.

She pulls her jacket tight around her shoulders and without comment pulls his down too, offering it to him.

He takes it with a sigh, shaking his head, but pulling the sleeves over his flannel. With a sigh, he grabs his keys off the counter. He points a finger at her, looking every bit the father scolding a troublemaking child. “You’re not coming inside the hospital. It’ll be an hour. You’ll drive someplace else. I’ll text you when it’s done.”

She smirks, pleased she’s won this round. Placing two fingers to her temple, she gives him a mocking salute. “Aye-aye captain!” Today, she won’t push. He’s come this far, weeks into his therapy. If he needs some time, then he needs time. Just so long as he knows she’s here now.

Leaving him is harder than she anticipated.

She takes his seat, half-listening as he stands at the door.

“There an outlet about five minutes North,” he says. He watches her move the seat around. Trying to drag the seat closer to the steering wheel so she can actually reach the pedals. “It’ll give you something to do. There’s a bookshop up there too. I-- I take Jack there.” He runs a hand over his hair. “A coffee shop and a smoothie stand and--”

She catches sight of the grey through his hair. Looking away, she clenches her jaw. Worry the edge of the steering wheel. “Aaron,” she finally stops him. “I can take care of myself for an hour. I’m a big girl.”

He shakes his head, ducking to so she can’t see the blush creep up his cheek. “Right,” he manages. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

She nods, “an hour.” She waits until she can’t see him. Those doors closing behind him. Swallowing him whole. It’s just an hour.

She was gone for an entire year. More than that really. Years. What are years to a single hour?

The coffee shop is quant. She can imagine him here. Tucked away within the stacks of books. Reid would like it here. The covers are old but, she thinks with a smile, he’d find something, not to date. Seeking a classic and turning away when it’s not in its original translation. That’s where Garcia has always been his balance. She’d pull him from a rant and sit him down with a cup of tea.

How had Emily ever left them?

Her hands tremble as she runs a finger over those old book backs. Mostly, she wonders what Hotch must be thinking. Heaven or hell. If all the work they’ve put into this job will account for anything at all in the end.

If it’ll hurt.

Her phone goes off. Done. Simple enough.

“I brought you a smoothie!” She’s got his sunglasses on when she pulls up. Not even offering to get out of the driver’s side.

He’s hurting more than he cares to admit. Tired and the rash on his chest burns. Seeing her pull up, he’s glad she doesn’t do more than hook her finger into the sunglasses and peer over their edge at him. Climbing into the car he takes one look at the smoothie and shakes his head. It’s dark green and even if he were hungry he’s sure that isn’t very good. “No thank you,” he mumbles, leaning back into the seat. He tilts his head against the rest.

She’s not really in the mood for arguments. More so, he’s just gotten out of treatment and all he’s had is an egg. “You’ll drink it,” she informs him, putting the car in drive. “Maybe not now but eventually.”

He grunts. Doubt that. If he’s going to manage to stomach anything, it’s not going to be that. Besides, he’d got plans: take a nap. That slowly goes down the drain.

Emily turns up the radio, humming along to a song he doesn’t recognize.

Turning his head, he watches her drive. He hasn’t told her yet but he’s very thankful she’s come back. Even if he’s slightly tainted the return with… She’s here taking over his life. Worming her way into his spare bedroom. Force-feeding him weird green smoothies. He doubts she’ll stop there.

“Hotch?” He doesn’t wake up when she shuts the car off. From there on, she’s gentle. Careful as she extracts herself from the car. “Aaron,” she rubs his shoulder.

He pulls in a small breath, turning slowly to her. Half-lidded eyes find her, confused.

When they left the house he’d looked better. Better than now. Not so exhausted.

“You fell asleep,” she informs him, backing up as he sits up. He has to use the seat to get there but he makes it happen. She waits back for him, letting him take his time getting out of the car. All while holding that damn smoothie she’s convinced she’s going to make him drink.

He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes when his phone goes off in his pocket. She turns at the door, waiting. He motions her on with a wave, taking the call. “Agent Hotchner speaking.”

She stops for a moment to watch him pull in the whole persona. Not Aaron who just fell asleep in the car but Hotch the rock. It’s sad, really, how quickly the one consumes the other.

She’s reading on the couch when he comes in.

He doesn’t say anything as he slips past, going back towards his room. He comes right back out. The loosely buttoned flannel is forgotten, replaced by a suit across his thin shoulders. Once, those suits had pronounced the sharpness of his body. The way his shoulders sit strong and straight. Now, that jacket doesn’t even look like it belongs to him.

“Where are you going?”

He only glances at her, ducking his head back to the task at hand-- putting on shoes.

She gets up off the couch, flipping the book text down. “Aaron,” she comes around the side. “You can’t go out there.” To work. It’s not healthy to go out there. He had fallen asleep on the ride home, not even twenty minutes ago. He won’t manage out there.

He turns to her as she steps into the room, scowl in place and a look of indifference pulled between them. All the protection he can garner for himself. “It’s not up for debate,” he replies. As if this is out of his control. He just can’t help but think it would be easier this way. It would hurt less, dying out there. A coherent death. He’d feel it. Quick and overwhelming.

But coherent. He’d know.

Not in a hospital. More machine than man. Unable to speak or too weak to think.

It would be better to die a hero.

“Aaron,” she calls, he’s just walking away. “You’re being unreasonable.” She wants to scream. To shout at him or grab him the collar of that oversized dress shirt and shake him. Force him to realize that he’s being stupid. Does he think she’s stupid? They both know this is self-destruction. Skipping treatment. Going into the field. All for this stupid image that he’s convinced himself is necessary. For who? Huh?

It’s better to suffer around people you love than to have them bury you. The only burden is the weight of your casket across their shoulders.

He turns, teeth clenched. Jaw set. “Am I?” he asks. His face has darkened, his cheekbones drawing his cheeks in. “I’m going,” he informs her, “regardless of whatever it is you have to say.”

He won’t look at her. That’s how she knows that no matter how illogical he’s being, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Back turned to her, he stops for just a moment. He knows this isn’t what he should. That this is neither his best option nor the right choice. Still, he opens the door. Stepping out he turns his head, eyes cast to the side. “I--” he shakes his head, he doesn’t know.

Before he can shut the door she calls his name out, fear overriding the anger. “Aaron,” she clenches her fists at her side. “Please be safe.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. Glancing at her, he nods his head. At least he has the decency not to lie to her. To pretend this is anything but foolish and a death wish. He shuts the door behind himself without another word.

Leaving her standing there.

Waiting.

She’ll still be waiting that night when Reid calls her. Incoherent.

“I-- I don’t know what’s wrong Emily! He won’t-- He’s bleeding and I--I… He said to call you.”

She shouldn’t have let him leave.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan

#tw cancer #haha assholes #I bet you thought I wouldn't hit you with a cliffhanger #emily is super involved in this chapter but the next chapter has lot more of the team in it #aaron hotchner hiding medical issues like he would #stubborn ass #you gotta love him tho #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid #bau

98 notes · View notes

allidoiswritewritewrite · 4 years ago

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

AN: So... I watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith last night, then immediately got this prompt from writingexercises.co.uk and I figured I would try my hand at it. This is my first fic in YEARS and my first fic ever here, so be kind plz and thank you :) let me know what you think, or if you think I left anything out of the TW.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Assassin!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Bucky Barnes had a happy marriage for six years, until they realized they were competing assassins.

TW: Some violence, shooting, mention of guns and a knife

To save his own life, he knew he would have to kill her.

That much became apparent to him as soon as he realized the woman who took a shot at him on a job that day was his wife of six years.

He sat on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge while a cut bled freely from above his left eye brow as the only evidence of the job gone wrong. His hair hung around his face, the sweat beading off his nose as he pondered his options.

Steve’s voice was droning on in the background, telling him how he told him so, and lecturing him about how could he be so stupid.

“You were probably just a job to her this entire time, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t think that could be true. With his eyes shut and his metal fist clenched, he looked down and remembered the night they first met.

Dusk was falling over a sleepy Seattle as Bucky tucked a sheathed knife into the waistband of his jeans, walking into the quiet bar to enjoy a drink.

As he glanced across the room, he saw her sitting there. Eyes shining in the neon lights hung up behind the bar, smiling to the bartender while she swirled a glass of whiskey around in one hand.

Her hair was a windswept mess, but her put-together pencil skirt and blazer suggested it was just a long day at the office.

He felt like he didn’t have any control as he walked over and took the stool next to her. Like a moth to a flame, he was entranced.

That’s how it all started, six years ago.

Staying in that bar until the last call, going back to her place and pulling at each other’s clothes as they walked through the door.

Bucky shook himself out of the memory. That was before he knew everything about her was a lie. Maybe he was just a job to her after all.

He thought back to the mission the day before when he realized what a disaster his life was.

Alexander Pierce, class A scumbag and member of the World Security Council, was set to be driving through that desert any minute.

Bucky’s M82 sat next to him, his music blaring next to him.

Who would hear it anyways?

That turned out to be his first mistake.

How was he supposed to know someone else was trying to take out his mark at the same time and place as him?

Five minutes after he settled in, a bullet hit the sand near him.

Looking up, he saw a figure aiming an M82 of their own his way.

He grabbed his backup gun, an AK-47, and turned it on them, raining bullets on their sheltered area before running to find cover.

As bullets chased him through the desert, he looked to the right and saw the SUV carrying his target flying through the hellscape.

He didn’t realize who his would-be killer was until he got back to Seattle, rain pouring down outside as he reviewed the tapes from the day’s failed mission.

When her hair blowing in the wind, lips puckered while she tried to take him out, he knew who she was.

That’s when he thought: what if I was her target all along?

He blinked away the thought and steeled himself, bidding goodbye to Steve and waved off his offers of help.

“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal. You say the word and I’ll be there.”

No, this was something he would have to take care of on his own.

To save your own life, you knew you would have to kill him.

Your marriage was an impulsive one, but everything always felt so right.

Now, though, as you sat in the quiet hotel bar staring down at the whiskey in your hand, things had never felt more wrong.

Everything about him had been a lie.

He was no engineer. Hell, he’d probably just been trying to kill you this entire time. You scolded yourself as you remembered the day you met him.

You had stopped by the bar on a whim. Someone else had taken out your target before you ever had the chance, and you knew you were in for a reaming when you got back to the office.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at the bar, sipping a whiskey and smiling at a comment the bartender made.

When a man came over to take the bar stool next to you, you thought it would be accompanied by another pickup line that would send your eyes rolling.

But instead, a sideways glance had you turning in your seat when you saw his blue eyes shining under the brim of his baseball cap, standing out against the dark strands of hair falling out of it.

Like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

And so, that night led to a whirlwind of two months of dating, an elopement and six happy years of marriage.

Until you saw him, gun in hand, waiting to take out your target.

You shook your head and downed the rest of your whiskey, feeling it burn as it slid down your throat.

The sun shone down on the desert sands as you fanned yourself, waiting in the vacant shed for your target.

Alexander Pierce, secretary for the World Security Council and a treasonous bastard.

He had been selling defense secrets to the country’s enemies, both foreign and domestic. At least 40 people were thought to be dead because of his actions.

You wouldn’t sleep any less at night for taking him out.

You had been taking shelter in the shed for a couple of hours, gun already set up and a bottle of water sitting next to you while you waited, when you heard someone’s music blaring to the left of you.

Looking down, you saw him. Broad shoulders stretching out a white t-shirt with sand all over it. Sweat slipping down his arms under the hot sun.

When you saw the metal arm, you knew who it was.

How could your husband, the love of your life, have betrayed you like this?

What if he was just there to kill you?

You couldn’t bring yourself to shoot him.You shot around him, got him to run so you could make a getaway.

Alexander Pierce was long forgotten.

A heavy sigh left your pursed lips as you slid some cash across the bar, stood up and walked out.

It was time to take care of business.

You noted that his truck was already parked in the driveway when you arrived at your perfectly suburban home, but not a single light shown through the windows into the night sky.

Opening the glovebox, you pulled out your handgun, flipped off the safety and took a deep breath.

You held your head high as you walked to the front door, opening it with your gun held out in front of you. You knew he had to have heard you coming.

It came as no surprise when your gun was knocked out of your hand the second you walked through the door.

That was all it took to start a tussle through the lower level of your house that left everything in tatters.

The sounds of skin slapping furniture mixed with grunts could’ve sounded erotic if you weren’t battling to the death with your betrothed.

Your back slammed into the pantry door, his arm pressing into your neck and cutting off your air supply for a moment. Wrapping your arm around his, you were able to get him off you long enough to catch your breath and send a kick to the side of his head.

“Enough with the foreplay, Barnes. Let’s get this show on the road.”

He advanced on you, gun in hand but aimed to try to hit you with it.

When you ducked, you grabbed his arm and used his momentum to get him to drop the gun.

His legs swiped yours out from under you, sending you reeling to the ground.

You latched onto his legs to pull him down and stood back up, but he didn’t follow far behind.

A punch that landed on his nose sent him stumbling back, and you pushed him onto the ground with a kick to his chest.

But that sent him just within reach of the gun you lost walking through the door.

Grabbing his off the ground, you spun around with the gun pointed toward him, his stance a mere five feet away mirroring yours.

His voice shook while he questioned you.

“Was any of it even true? Or have I just been a job this whole time?”

You shuddered, the hand holding a gun shaking as you clicked on the safety and lowered it, managing a whispered answer.

“If you think I could fake how much I love you, go ahead and take the shot Bucky.”

The seconds passed like minutes. It felt like the silence might swallow you whole, chest heaving while you watched his eyes skim across your face.

Tears shone in both of your eyes as he lowered his gun and took a step closer to you.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, doll.”

/ f i n /

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #assassin!bucky barnes #assassin!reader #assassin au #bucky barnes imagine

80 notes · View notes

dangerouslyinlovewithchris · 4 years ago

Text

The Start Of Something - Drabble

I managed to get myself to sit at the computer and since everything before this had implied an already relationship, I wanted to do something before it had started. I can't help it, I find it wholesome, just imagining and the second part is totally already planned. I can feel it!

Anyway, this is before the reader and Chris are together, that might come later, depending how the muse goes. I've given up predicting it, it does what it wants!

This is slow burn, completely free of anything too fluffy. The solid fluffiness will come later *Evil smirk* Enjoy!

Word Count: 1167

It was such a struggle sometimes, maintaining your distance from him. It shouldn’t have been a problem at all; he was your superior and such relationships were frowned upon, were they even possible. And yet, it remained a struggle for you.

It didn’t help that he had this habit of leaning against the console. He couldn’t simply remain in the Captain’s chair and shout his instructions; he had to come closer, as though making sure you were doing your job properly. You were fairly certain that wasn’t why he came over; it was simply his nature to be close to people, but it felt that way.

It was near torture and you knew it affected how you worked. More than once he’d had to ask you the same thing several times because you’d been fighting with every fibre of your being not to slide closer to him; not to accidentally touch his hand while inputting a command. It was so damn difficult, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself wanting him to come closer to you.

You hated it when he remained in the chair, simply looking at a PADD, or talking to one of the other crew members. You didn’t even like it when he stood before the viewscreen, close but not close enough to make contact with you.

Contact, oh, you couldn’t even think about that!

It had only happened a few times: accidental touching in the corridors as you moved between stations; once when the ship lurched and he fell against you before righting himself. It had set off lightning bolts of need and you savoured those memories like treasured belongings. You were certain they hadn’t meant anything to him; except perhaps embarrassment in the latter case, but you loved it all the same.

“Commander, are you going to lay in the course or will we have to find another way to reach the nebula?” Chris’ voice broke you from your thoughts and you turned to him, meeting his eyes for all of a second before looking away again. Shit, how long had he been watching you?

“Sorry, sir,” you managed, before realising you had no freaking idea which nebula you were meant to be plotting a course towards.

“Commander?”

You could hear him standing and you tensed, looking at your fingers as your brain went through all the nearby nebulas. There weren’t that many, perhaps you’d be lucky and pick the right one. You reached out, beginning to input the bearing, when he reached out, his hand on your stopping it.

“I said course heading 102 mark 5, why are you plotting a course to 47 mark 6?”

Shit, you’d clearly picked the wrong nebula.

“Sorry, sir,” you stammered, your eyes fixed firmly on your hand, the one that he had briefly touched; the one you feared you might never be able to wash again.

“Are you okay, Commander? You seem a little…distracted?”

He was close enough for you to hear the lift in his voice and your heart stopped for a moment. You felt as though you’d been shot by lightning and there was no way for you to reply to that. He’d not only noticed you were distracted, but his words implied he might have known why…and better yet, that he liked it?

“Commander?”

The amusement was becoming ever more obvious and you forced yourself; willed yourself, to regain control. Taking a deep breath, you actively prayed for him to move just a little bit further away so you might not be able to sense his body heat, all the while forcing your hand to move as it was meant to, so your distraction might become less obvious.

“Course heading… 102 mark 5,” you managed, your finger moving to the initiate button, turning to look at the Captain now.

“We have progress,” Chris smiled at you, forcing you to turn away again, “but you still haven’t addressed my more pressing concern.” To your horror he came closer, clearly not wanting to make this uncomfortable for you, not when the rest of the crew was on the bridge, watching the interaction. “Are you okay, Commander? Do you need some time?”

If he stayed that close for much longer it wouldn’t be time alone you needed, but time with him.

Feeling your cheeks flush, you stared at that initiate button intently, as though it was the most fascinating thing in the universe. You could have looked at the viewscreen, but you didn’t trust yourself and so couldn’t bring yourself to look up. Plus, the consoles were dark and reflective, you could just about make out his reflection and the perfection of it. There was a smile too, or was that your imagination?

“I’m fine, Captain,” you managed, when you realised he wouldn’t leave without an answer, “I just…didn’t sleep much last night. I had news, bad news, from home.”

“Oh, I hope everything is okay,” Chris’ voice softened, though he moved away slightly now, giving you space as though it would help you process your news. There was no news, but you had to say something to get him to back off!

“It will be, sir,” you replied, turning to look at him again, noticing the concern in his eyes as you did so. “It is nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Chris gifted you a smile, a warming one that he gave frequently to all members of the crew. He loved you all equally, he made no attempt to hide it, there was little reason to think this was anything more than that. “If you need to talk, you know my door is always open.”

Or maybe there was.

He’d made that offer before, but there was a way to him that made you wonder if it was something different this time. You could almost hear the unspoken words, ‘whatever time you find yourself in need of me’. Okay, maybe ‘in need of me’ was a bit too much, but the 'whatever time' was implied, you knew he had wanted to say that but didn’t. You just knew it.

“Thank you, Captain,” you managed, as he finally returned to his chair and your heart rate started to slow, though your hand continued to tingle.

“Whenever you are ready, Commander,” Chris continued, and you looked at him again, watching as he finally sat back in the seat. “Hit it.”

“Yes, sir,” with a smile, a relieved smile, you turned back to the console and finally hit that button you’d been staring at for so long.

You couldn't help but wonder if you would take him up on that offer; not to talk about your family, but to talk about something else; anything else.

You hadn’t imagined the touch, the smile, or the concern; but was it more than what he showed to everyone else? Could it be possible that this man, so beloved by everyone, might have found himself attracted to you?

You hoped so, you truly did.

#mywrting #christopher pike x Reader #Christopher Pike x You

17 notes · View notes

worldcakecakecake · 4 years ago

Text

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64 I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68 I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71 I Chapter 72 I Chapter 73 I Chapter 74 I Chapter 75 I Chapter 76 I Chapter 77

Chapter 78

The street disappeared behind him, he couldn’t see the angel or the delightful sky any longer, all faded until it mended to this new surrounding of marbled walls and strengthening pillars. As expected, he was alone, leveling until he gave a landing step that echoed rather ominously in this emptiness.

He was fully in the third realm, no trace of the second seen in any of these walls, this floor, the ceiling, the directions that went on in darkness.

Focus on moving ahead, the angel had said, and so, if even the uneasiness, he decided to tip toe his first foot forward, slow and testing, his body trying to follow with in the same hesitance and worry. He thought he could land his foot with nothing to worry about, but it was just as he did that there was a sudden glow, a gold tracing intricate designs all over the marble and pillars. This hall seemed like it had begun to breathe, brightening in these beautiful signs all around that despite the words of the angel, it instantly invoked panic. Feliciano burst with sudden energy to run, away from whatever was to occur. Unbeknownst to him, whatever was occurring, took a grasp of his feet, brightening in this beautiful gold that began to decorate with golden chains that hanged and flourished, raising up trying to completely engulf him all. Feliciano refused it, trying to shake it away, jumping awkwardly forward as he did. In that turn, a sudden light was shot at him, a rather rash push that almost tumbled him forward to a ground gloriously alight in reds and golds now. His whole body was now coated in a gold and red that completely eradicated the colors he had kept from his very entrance into the realms. He shone an outward that added to the lights of this hall, now no trace of the marble he had entered to.

When he thought he was safe, away from whatever this could throw at him, he was suddenly bombarded with many more lights, shakes and new designs growing on the walls, stronger at each step Feliciano made to run away. He only continued to shine brighter, these new lights wrapping around him to make outward red marks, like flowers on pillars and walls, or stars above his village. From what he wore in the third realm, it began to elongate, giving him a long cape, other parts tightened and extended to cover him all in a suit that reminded Feliciano of imperial majesty, sewing symbols and forms with richness of rubies and gold. It decorated him in jewels, in coloring his face, up and up until he felt the weight of growth on the top of his head. It was a halo, large, with surely pillars that elaborated in detailed art, extended to always keep him heavenly and ruling. His eyes were now the red of wine, his hair the flame of fire, opening and flowing in an accept to all this magic that fell on him, his walk more peaceful, practically floating as he made his away across. The residue that was flown away in sparks and light, went upward, sculpting a set of white feathered wings, tall, expanding. Feliciano felt them suffocated in these walls. They should be free, they should be flying over a land his to rule as he pleased.

He felt a grace of power, so definite that he already wanted to decree, shout and sing it all until everything was formed as he desired. Begone with this hall! He was ready to destroy it all, but he was still being granted image, power still reigning on him, his being joining the lighting of this hall, now much more until he could feel in it belonging and safety, like he was simply strolling one of the halls of his castle.

He skipped, he danced, he welcomed himself in this form, one that had never made him feel so beautiful.

Something was coming… he felt a sort of precipice…one he knew he had to accept in and take its passage. It was the entrance into the fourth realm, the hall ending in a beautiful, tall, decorated in flowers, vases, statues and gold, door. Pure darkness awaited at the other side, but Feliciano felt unafraid of it, in fact, he smiled as he dared to go through, like another splash, an exhale of new air, all behind him without a care. With the growth of his wings, he expected them to carry on through, but as his breath came back in…he realized that he was falling, into a void, nothing to fly or even hold on to. He screamed and was torn in worrying over falling endlessly or hitting a hard ground. He surprised himself with the control he kept on his wings. He couldn’t make them fly, but he could make them wrap around himself as he witnessed a familiar blue light coming, to keep him cushioned for what he thought would be a harsh hit against water.

He did fall against something…hard, yet soothing, bouncing across these waters in ease before it decided to keep an even float, slow and content. The wings seemed to have fallen on their own, opening Feliciano’s gaze to a still continuing darkness overhead. Below him was polished wood, red, a triangular forward that Feliciano identified part of a boat. Once he settled his breath, he stood in what he realized was a small space, his wings much larger than it, having to stand up to not take any more area that Feliciano used to pace as he explored how this vessel was decorated. Of course, red, golden trimmed, flowers and medallions towering and flooding to two pillars that stood at the bottom of the vessel, they met at an arch with a beautifully decorated St. Mark at the top, kind, watching and expecting.

Once he was familiar with where he stood, he looked overboard, to the same waters that continued in the darkness that he had met back in the first realm. He reached a hand and noticed that this time it could sink in, wet and translucent as water should be. There were no other boats as his…well, no other people, floating above releasing magic, or walking or flying. Nothing. He was the only presence.

“Hello,” he called in the hopes someone could come. He repeated, he tried in all the languages he knew, but nothing came back to him. He sighed, then noticing a tremor from the corner of his eyes. It was the boat hitting against the water, sailing a path…it was moving! It was the realization that it was passing him on, to the rest of the heavens that all awaited when passing all the realms.

This was the last realm…he only had a couple of hours, maybe even minutes, to get access to the Eternal Reserve and yet he still didn’t have the right approach, the right key. He startled himself up and began a harsh pace around the boat. He had to hurry! The desperation making him sweat and lose the ease of his breath.

“Okay, okay, okay, what can you use? What do you have?” He told himself as his mind swam, as his steps turned into stomps that were a wonder it didn’t tip the boat over.

The reserve needed to recognize him, to know him and accept him. His answers to this was standing tall, showing his full body, heart radiating, gathering voice to shout: “Support!” It echoed, it rang…but nothing came to answer. “Uh…the moon!” Still no answer. “Economy! Ruling!” He began to swing as if it could help his words carry on longer. “Cultivation! Pleasure! The Sun! Management!” He turned, he shivered, the words shivering along with him. “Unity! Own! Reservation! Improvement! Force! Oppose! Commerce! Intention!” With each word shouted, with each silence, his voice dwindled, the force on his chest gone, the wings, the glow, the marks, this imperial new suit, beginning to look like a ridiculous costume instead of the power he felt only minutes ago. He trembled…more than ever he felt dead as this darkness seemed to swallow him more, the loneliness draining him, the boat beginning to look like a haze as tears dwelled in his eyes.

“Offering…equality…magic…ability…” whispers now, losing intensity and the strength to stand. “Representation…planification…prediction…cooperation…” he slowly came down, taking a kneel, his face meeting ground as the shiver shook him to a high whimper. “…affinity…relation…” his tone cracked, it chocked and scratched at whatever word that tried to escape. “…harshness…history…”

What was the point? He harshly spat at himself with venom. None of the words he surely tried to memorize would work. And like this! A tearful mess, weak, alone, broken and given up, leaving at a lost his entire world…he was not worthy to show himself…prove he was whatever these words were. He felt himself tempted to sink into the darkness below him, forgotten and never to arise, let everything fall as he surely will, as everything was meant to crumble and die. Aloud went his shouts, his pain, reflected well on these waters, Feliciano already imagining all the bodies that were meant to pass here, disappointed, with horror and betrayal in their faces.

These realms seemed like a great escape from the horrors…but he did not know how far these two monsters could go…these realms were just at risk…the heavens…it will cease because of his doing, and he coated the boat in the tears in his fault.

It was time to give up, to face the ending that was to come and he did so with what started a calming breath…but then it trembled to misery, pain and shouts again.

“And what, Signorino, are you doing here?”

Feliciano arose and stilled at the warmth of this tone, embracing, welcoming…Feliciano already smiled, even with reddened eyes, a continuing shake, but he turned to meet the sudden shinning presence of his grandfather. “Nonno?”

He stood in his own boat, a gondola, a lazy lean on the pole he held, as courageous, powerful and bright as ever, more intensified with this armor of gold with beautiful symbols, his own pair of wings, a tall halo, his eyes and hair the fire and gold he himself took. “I was hoping one day to see you again here…but it is still too soon.”

“Nonno?” Feliciano was hesitant, for a moment wondering if it was a hallucination, a trick of the realm.

“Ah! Chi se ne frega! Come over here and hug your old man!” It was undeniably him, Feliciano could feel his embrace from afar no matter where and how.

“Nonno!” He shouted sure, running, letting the boat move as harshly as it wanted. Right now all he cared were those arms around him, that warmth, that cuddle and love that was so uniquely his grandfather’s. He couldn’t help these new tears that coated his shoulders, how he shook and gave himself into it. Augusto laughed and smiled loudly as he usually did, those last days of his life a faraway past that it was almost like it had never happened. They swayed, Feliciano began to grow his own laugh, letting them both settle into a safety that made them wonder if it could stand against whatever force the universe threw at them.

It could, they knew it could, Feliciano had never felt so sure of something in his time here.

As they were accustomed, as a normal train of thought returned, as the anxieties held above Feliciano once again came crashing unto him, he rose and moved back…while still keeping a tight hold of his grandfather’s hands, refusing any departure. “Nonno…what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit my living grandson from the beyond?” Augusto pouted so comically Feliciano couldn’t help the chuckle.

“You’re supposed to be in the heavens, nonno!” Feliciano scolded with a deep smile.

“So what? I can do whatever I want anyways. The Aces can’t do shit!” He was sure, high and mighty as ever even as he spoke of the gods. “You won’t believe how they treat the Valenti over there! It’s like were Aces ourselves! They bow and join our feasts! We ask something and they give it to us without question! Your great grandfather Frederico holds balls every day and won’t stop talking about how he’ll be reborn as a prince, and your great grandmother Giovanna has created palaces for all that cannot compare to anything you’ve seen in your world!”

“Nonno, that sounds wonderful!” Feliciano’s eyes alighted and grew in wonder.

“It’s overbearing! Sometimes I can’t stand it!” Feliciano’s laughter swayed his boat slightly. “Sometimes I like to take this job to get away from it all, helping those who are here to pass on to the heavens, talk and know…whatever I can about you and the rest of my family.” And sincere he turned, deep and loving, Feliciano letting his hand caress his now marked and glittered cheek. “And you are looking absolutely beautiful,” Augusto complimented sweetly, Feliciano cuddling more into that hand. For a moment he had forgotten about how he was decorated, his wings a reminder that soured him once again, Augusto feeling him sink in his arms.

“You knew I was in the realms?”

“A young Queen of Hearts in the realms is bound to cause a stir. At first, I thought the worst. I suffered and begged it all to be a mere rumor. But more came with the news…then more cleared your reason and how this is a journey in which you are trying to find something…that you’re really meant to come back.” Augusto didn’t think he could see his grandson sink lower, even as he still held to him. “Amore…what is happening?” He tried to raise him, to at least meet him with his eyes, even when such misery lay in them.

“I…failed, Nonno…” and the tears came again, his lean to hide and not show any disgrace to his grandfather.

“What? Why? Why are you saying that?” Augusto continued to keep him up, shaking him if he had to.

“There’s war raging in our world. Khaos and Destro are obliterating everything and whatever we do, it’s never enough! I spent weeks mourning over…mourning over…” the pain wouldn’t let him continue.

“Ludwig?” Augusto guessed as much.

Feliciano could only respond with a nod, as his voice was too hoarse to do so now. “You…you heard?”

“I did. I was hurt immensely when I found out.”

“Did you…did you ever see him pass through…?” once again he dared, even if it was like more needles to his pain.

“I’m afraid not…no matter how long I waited and expected him…he never did.” Augusto didn’t dare utter more of what he wondered it meant. It was sorrow that was best not to let themselves sink further in.

Feliciano couldn’t really always escape it, his loss was always painted clear on him, one Augusto wished he could wash away…but he knew what it was like, for he had gone through the lost of his dear Helena. Now, she was with him, they had a home in the heavens together, and Augusto still cried himself to sleep in her arms, not believing he had truly been reunited with her. He now wondered how he could have possibly lived in the old world after her death. Yet, he had this…he had the chance to meet with his wife again, even hope for a future where they could reincarnate together…Feliciano…as it stood…would not. He would never connect to this pain…and it hurt that all he could do was this caress, this presence to assure him that he was not alone even in this infinite darkness.

“I…I came here to see if I could access the Eternal Reserve. There the power of the alignment is stored. I could have brought it back and…saved everybody…but…but…” he began to shake with tears again.

“The…Eternal Reserve?” Augusto questioned, just as he noticed a wooden raft pass them, a marked man stood there, proud as he omitted beautiful spheres of fire. He sailed pass them, not taking notice, following the fastest current.

“To access it, I must prove myself…but…I’m not worthy enough for it…it won’t come to me…I came here for nothing.” Feliciano didn’t bother to notice as a large canoe passed, rowed by several, all laughing loudly as they hurried.

“How do you prove yourself to this?”

Feliciano didn’t raise his voice as a raft flew above them, people there in a jitter that Augusto had to lean closer to hear his grandson’s answer. “The four stances.”

“The Four stances?”

“Yes, the four stances, Nonno. I’m supposed to know them, what each kingdom represents and I have to show those qualities myself.” There came larger metal ones, with sails enough to cover them, ignorant to all. People sang and shouted, but neither had the felicity to join.

“The four stances…just the four stances…”

“Yes, Nonno. I don’t know them, and it’s so complicated and I can’t- Agh!” Augusto hit him with his pole.

“The four stances! I taught you this! I explicitly remember teaching it to you several times back when we started our teachings in the villa!” He was angry, groaning and huffing.

“What?! No you didn’t, I don’t remember that!” Another hit of the pole, Feliciano groaning and trying to rub this new pain out from his head.

“Well if you didn’t spend half the time doodling and distracted thinking about…prancing naked in red fields with Ludwig, then right now you wouldn’t have this dilemma!” Augusto had to stand so his shouts could land right on him.

“Wait…so you know them!" Feliciano realized before he could defend himself from the new hit.

“Of course I know them! And so do you!” He pointed harshly.

“Nonno, I really don’t remember them and I am in a huge hurry. Just tell them to me and then we’ll have a chance to save everyone!” A sailboat passed them, an old Viking one, with Jokers shouting as they made their way.

“No!” Feliciano was expecting a new hit, but Augusto instead brought the pole to his chest.

“What?! Come on, Nonno! You can’t just leave me like this!”

“I won’t be leaving you, amore mio. I am sure you know them. Even if sometimes your head was in other places, I know you kept the words, I know you have lived and proved them well, you just have to name them.” He was confident, to the point that as a large shine came in their backs, as the currents came faster, as more boats, rushing animals and whatever transport that Kingdoms have concocted with passed by them in beautiful shines, he was patient and knowing.

“Nonno, please, just-”

“No. You must name them on your own. Feliciano, think! Think back to the days of our teachings. The four stances are what each kingdom represents…and who represents the kingdoms?”

“The…King, Queen and Jack.”

“Exactly. Now, how is it mostly shown?”

Feliciano lay in silence as he thought, focused and determined, Augusto knew, even as a boat made of ice sailed past them, a whole array of people skating and dancing in it, and Feliciano was still in his own mind.

“Through their unions...”

Augusto thought he had to keep leading him, but Feliciano must have touched something in his mind, must have come just to the right reminder, laid forgotten in memories of sitting on those stuffy desks back in his home, for he himself continued, “it’s shown in what their union takes strength on, how they present themselves to their kingdom, what gives it energy and how even the King and Queen decide their relationship on.”

And it was clear, in memories of his beloved Ludwig, of his dear Kiku, their coronation, their wedding and sacrifices. Their childhood ran past his mind, just as he saw two children souls, two Heartian girls, in the back of a St. Lion sprinting forward. He thought to their grown reunion…not the best… it was hurt, it was broken…but it was fixed, they fought and mended for it as every King and Queen of hearts has done, until it grew unto deep feelings of… “Love.”

Augusto smiled.

“Hearts’s stance is Love.”

There was a sudden glow, pumping like the beat of a heart, alighting these oceans in red before dimming in beautiful marks that sparkled and glorified more this passage to the others. A man in a coach laughed and let his hand play with some of the red sparks that arose.

“Good, go on. What about Diamond?”

And Feliciano thought on Francis’ years, like a guided brother. Vash and Lili were so young…but this gap was always present in Diamond royals, for their purpose was to grow, mentor and learn between one another to always be sure of what would be the best outcome.

“Diamond’s stance is Wisdom.”

A yellow beat, to mix along with the red, gardeners taking from this energy to make flowers to add to their already plentiful rafts.

Then he thought of Spades, a population mixed with so much magic and technology. Differences, tensions…it doesn’t help that the King and Queen are to be married without knowing each other until the year of arising. Yet they always manage to work, to unite, and above all… “Trust. Spades’s stance is Trust.” Then came that distinct blue to add, pattering stars all across. Some took baskets to take, others stared and tried to catch what they could with the simple palm of their hands.

“One more, carino,” Augusto reminded with a teasing smile.

Just Clubs…Clubs…only one more.

The shakes were turning stronger…some had reported that parts of the castle had crumbled. Despite the hours that passed, many still stood in the same exact spot they had decided as their last face off. Their weapons were still brandished and some even had magic running in their hands.

“Destro has officially entered the perimeters of the city!” One soldier came crashing in to announce before he settled off to help the next waves of attacks. A roar could be heard clearly, Augustino began to cry from it, and to add, the tremors they knew now were from attacks blown straight to their city.

“How much time is left?” Kandake shouted to Renata, who shook as she gazed to her hand and then to the greying body in the water. “I can’t be sure…perhaps thirty minutes?”

“We might have to get him out sooner,” Elizabeta realized.

“Can we send him some sort of message to hurry?” Kiku wondered, moving back to join the Valenti family, to help in the necessary.

“The music box!” Renata turned to Lovino.

“I’m not sure, but we can try!” Lovino took it out and without a moment to wonder, he opened the chest to bring the melody.

Clubs was the biggest of the four kingdoms, with the most intimidating and mysterious of rulers. They kept the field that held Khaos, their mountains and trees a stronghold that guarded and was ready to face whatever threats. Like Diamonds, the royals were not expected to marry…they were expected to show… “Power.” To match along with the force of their kingdom. “Clubs’s stance is Power.” And the ocean was joined by the pulse of green. A row boat that had been trying to be quick, to keep up with all these movements, couldn’t hold their stop, their play and wonder as all arose and crafted.

“Love. Trust. Wisdom. Power.” Feliciano enunciated them sure, this darkness now blessed with the four kingdom colors, colors that began to shine well on him from their reflection. He smiled, letting it spread on his body, feeling powerful again, hopeful, ready.

Under the paint of these currents, something began to glow, to call. He was about ready to jump and answer it, but not before turning to his grandfather, with his very same smile, prideful and ecstatic for a sure future to come. Feliciano ran once again into his arms, a sure last embrace, warmth and belonging that Feliciano hoped could last until they were to meet again at his right time.

“Most beautiful Queen the kingdom has ever had I always said.”

“Ah, Nonno,” Feliciano rolled his eyes, but he accepted the words.

“Little Augustino is the loveliest thing.”

“How did you-”

“I have my ways,” he chuckled, tightening more his body to him, hoping it could well imprint. “Watch over him, watch over your family, your kingdom, your world…save it…and make it ready for your own little ones.” Augusto rubbed the red jewels in his palms, knowing…how, Feliciano didn’t really care, he smiled and bowed in promise.

This moment was interrupted by a melody…a highly familiar one that seemed to crack across this world.

“I’ll journey and see beyond the lines of our kingdom,

Never a fear to be lost, never a fear to fall,

In pleasure, I will take the mysteries of what I could meet,

If you accept to be mine, my Queen.”

It wasn’t sung, but Feliciano could feel the words already pouring from his heart, coming to life in his head. No one else seemed to listen, the boats continued on by him, in their own music, Augusto himself unware of this alarm that rung. He only continued to smile, behind him the largeness of the gates of heaven, immense, sculpted, living, beautiful…tempting even to Feliciano with a light that began to coat everything.

“No heat, no cold, will stop me of my search,

No sun, no rain to go against my strength,

Just promise me your hand,

And love me in our eternity.”

This song was stronger, what was below the waters joined in it with insistence to come and so Feliciano took one last breath, before he had to turn away from his grandfather, another goodbye, but indeed there was a promise he had to fulfill.

He extended his arms in farewell to the realms, before he brought them forward to propel him, a jump, a slight flight and he was crashing into the surface, into the depths as heavy and moving as water should be. He helped this pull by swimming in it, deeper and deeper until the lights above weren’t clear, until the call from down below began to shine on its own, apart…in its world away from all.

In a quick distraction, he could see the shocks and releases of the first realm, the bright colors of the second realm, the lighting halls of the third realm and the rushing waters of the fourth. He saw them all like webs around a grand network, and the call, coming from a center…in a unique place between the connections of all the realms. It took its form like a cabinet, rich, crafted and opening its door of elegance to the person it had found worthy.

“My sun, my moon, my land, my love,

I know it’s a journey you will overcome,

But I don’t need you to go so far,

I want you here to kiss me.”

The melody still went on, hurrying Feliciano’s paddle across this expanse, the light reaching more, engulfing his approach. It widened as it felt him there, growing enough so it could take Feliciano into a center, truly in depth with all the information, all that was available, showcasing not in form, but in various feelings of power, going through him until he could recognize the true one he needed. He let that specific one take rest in him, mend with his skin, his blood, his spirit, his inner most power until he was well blended with it and…awake.

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #fatkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

26 notes · View notes

anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years ago

Text

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 47 – Frankenstein’s Ordeal

Frankenstein sighed, his entire form completely drained of energy, at last back to the one place he had been literally dying to return to.

The only thing he could pull off at the moment was leaning against the nearest table.

He could not remember the last time his fatigue has had so much weight upon him.

He has never been fond of drinking, and hangover has been the furthest experience for him ever since he became a modified human.

But now he could feel what an undergrad just days away from commencement would feel like until the date marked on calendar.

And he knew even if he refills his stomach with tonic, he will not be freed from his exhaustion.

He could personally and objectively see that the current amount and dosage of the tonic far surpass their original values.

The tonic being chemically crafty enough to be classified as a drug, his body was growing immune to it at a nightmarish rate.

And withdrawal and immunity are the most fundamental factors in diagnosing addiction.

As for mental withdrawal symptoms, Frankenstein could definitely check on the ‘yes’ box, for the tonic was the only thing he could think of on his way back.

Which was only one of several ways for him to discern how serious his condition was.

Which did not change the fact that the only choice he can make is to once again down the entire bowl of tonic.

Feeling exasperation seething from his every cell, Frankenstein wobbled towards the table at which he brews his tonic.

He could soon find the tonic, presenting him with both joy and bitterness, as well as two wolfsbane plants, now impeccably mummified under the lights. He failed to safekeep them before bolting out of the isle.

Despite the fact that they lost their life and shine mesmerizing enough to poke his nose with fragrance upon sight, the wolfsbanes still appeased his eyes with glamorous pink.

As glamorous and pink as her eyes.

Frankenstein scrunched his forehead, horrified by his own thoughts.

‘What are you saying, Frankenstein? Glamorous? Like her eyes?’

Nonsense.

‘Pull yourself together.’

That’s right.

Glamorous like Lunark’s eyes? Yeah, right.

The petals are all dry. They’re nothing like her eyes.

Her eyes are much starrier and much more beauti......

Bam!!!

Frankenstein shut down his brain process by pounding the table.

Now it was growing harder for him to keep the reins in his hand, attached to his heart and head, both of them waiting for opportunities whenever possible to roll away from his reasons and logics.

He rubbed his face with his hand as if he were trying to peel off his skin, his mind rewinding to what happened just before his departure from the werewolf realm.

*****

“Do you have a moment?”

“No, of course not.”

Frankenstein did not hesitate to fire his answer towards Muzaka who waved at him.

Muzaka complained about how Frankenstein was “going at it again,” which brought about quite an entertainment for the answerer. However, that was not the sole reason why Frankenstein worded his response as such.

Because whenever Muzaka requested a private one-on-one conversation, chances were only too good for the werewolf lord to fling at his face something extremely annoying and painful but unignorable.

“I’m not trying to dump another quest on you this time, so why don’t you give it a try?”

“Since you framed your words with ‘give-it-a-try,’ I’d say there’s no doubt it’s at least something I won’t be happy with.”

“Damn, this is exactly why I hate talking to smart guys. Whatever. I need a word with you.”

Muzaka checked his surroundings, his face no longer powdered with his usual grin, which made Frankenstein hold his tongue.

“It’s about Lunark.”

Which was made null by Muzaka’s following words.

“Why would you discuss with me about Lunark?”

“Because it’s you. I feel horrible and remorseful that I must talk to you about her behind her back, but... It turned out Lunark has feelings for you.”

Muzaka added just before Frankenstein was about to file a complaint, thereby ruthlessly flipping his senses upside down, which plummeted downward below the ground to ultimately plunge into invisible nether depth that colored his entire being with surreal, dreamy feelings with color coordinates labeled as “ecstasy.”

Feeling how his body is speared by ecstasy like rain washing over land suffering from years of drought, Frankenstein stood stupefied, and Muzaka crooked his bushy eyebrows in expression of surprise.

“You didn’t know? Didn’t think such a sharp guy like you wouldn’t have noticed it. Or are you those types of guys who tend to be oblivious when it comes to girls?”

He was not oblivious.

Lunark was too conspicuous with her feelings on several basis for him to remain oblivious.

Nevertheless, getting testament from someone else felt so new.

Frankenstein could only stay petrified with sensation he is not used to, and Muzaka could continue with the lead of the conversation, determined not to leave his listener stony.

“And that has become a problem for her recently.”

Frankenstein’s face, as smooth and blank as that of a porcelain doll, was sparked by unseeable flame.

It was not that he did not see this coming from Muzaka’s mouth, from the point he mentioned that Lunark “likes him” likes him.

He had already foreseen and lectured himself that there is no good for Lunark to love him.

Still, he was much more than unpleasant to hear such words from Muzaka, which was a nuisance and astonishment for him.

And the only thing he could do was to keep his lips sealed.

“Although I’m about to die from guilt to say this to you, let’s be frank and analytical here. You don’t think that striking up a relationship with Lunark at a time like this would bring any good, do you?”

Once again, Muzaka’s statement was nothing short of Frankenstein’s stance.

So the blonde man could not fathom just why his displeasure would grow thicker.

“Hmm, how should I put this...? Oh. You know that Lunark has been vetoing body modification, relying only on her natural strength, right?”

Frankenstein responded with a nod.

This time he was truly puzzled why Muzaka would bring up the reason why Lunark has been rejecting body modification, to none other than him, his history good enough to win him a title of the inception, the ancestor, and the guardian deity of human body modification.

“That’s who she was. Even before I got to sit in my throne for initial time, my kind has never been astray from the pathway towards power. And among children of my clan, Lunark always stood out from her peers. That’s why I couldn’t help but take note of her.”

Lunark as a child?

I’m sure she stood out, both in terms of competence and personality. After all, werewolves just love to pick a fight.

Frankenstein barely managed to retrack his mind back to its place, before a wave of curiosity lured him away.

“Even after she came of age, along with Kentas she was a block piece incompatible with the rest of our clan. She later told me that she and he were the only ones clean of body modification until Maduke’s death. Her identity as a werewolf and a warrior did not allow her to nurture her power with anything other than her personal work, she claimed. And it was partially because she did not want to put herself in equal to the human scum she so scorned.”

Muzaka stopped short to take a breath at the end of a not-so-short speech, and within a given second Frankenstein’s head whirred madly.

Though Muzaka did not mention anything related, Lunark told him during his past visit to awaken the gray-haired werewolf that she had a rough sense on what the wolfkind’s experiments were based on, which was why she denied any familiarization with body modification.

Their conversation back then did not take long, for Frankenstein was almost solely concerned with waking up Muzaka; nonetheless, a couple exchange was enough to show him how Lunark was awfully devoted to her kind.

How she had unwavering pride in her power, which was made oh-so-tangible by her answer to a question asking what she would do if she needs greater power in order to protect her people.

I’ll just have to get stronger. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Or how much I must destroy myself. I’ll get stronger with my pure power. I will outshine myself and fly higher. And I will. I can gladly give up myself for the sake of my people.

It was an odd occasion for him, as he first touched on body modification and used himself as specimen for human welfare.

Now that he thought about it, perhaps that is when his eyes began to defy the automatic recalibration to their places once they are fixed on Lunark.

He remembered how he actually had to struggle to retrieve his eyes from her.

And once again he had to endeavor to recollect the flow of his thoughts from Lunark.

“And the girl developed her pristine passion for power into will and responsibility as a warrior. The fact that she served as Union elder cannot be excused, of course, but I can guarantee she is very committed to my kind. Anybody would be able to guarantee, werewolf or not.”

Frankenstein nodded in agreement, still clueless about the reason why Muzaka is sermonizing him about Lunark’s responsibility as a warrior.

“Now with Crombel a goner... Wait, no. Even before Crombel hit the road to the other world, Lunark has been carrying out her every word, action, and willpower with our kind as their heart. But her footsteps lately began to stray from such excellence.”

Muzaka went ahead to inform Frankenstein about the unknown cause behind Lunark’s sudden rampage (for which Frankenstein was one of the only two souls who knew so well why) that took place after he left, along with the fact that Lunark now starts whenever his name is brought up and gets lost in thoughts more often during mission, testified by the young werewolf warriors.

His mind thinning as he heard Muzaka, Frankenstein got to hear what he had been anticipating.

“I know I shouldn’t be asking this to either of you, but I would like you to please not give Lunark any more hope. Play cold to her if you need to. She must not lose her sense and responsibility as a warrior because of her personal feelings. And certainly not during times like this. Don’t you agree?”

Frankenstein held his voice as he stared.

“Man, I had never thought I’d get to ask you a favor even more shameless than our secret deal. I owe you one again. I’ll do you a favor later on, as long as it’s something in my power.”

Frankenstein’s reply at the moment was very limited.

No, there was but a single reply he could opt for.

“...Very well.”

Frankenstein could not reassure Muzaka, but he ultimately ignored the tugs from his heart to dispense what Muzaka was seeking to hear.

*****

‘What took you back there, Frankenstein?’

He scolded himself, recalling how he could make a reply just before Muzaka retorted why he was not responsive.

The reality is that there is no reason at all for him to reciprocate Lunark’s feelings, based on a variety points of view.

He has so much more to discover until he lands on the hint to the secret behind Raizel’s resurrection; there is no room he could afford for romance.

And it is only logical for Lunark to abort her feelings if they hinder her with her duties.

Most importantly, he did not even want to imagine himself performing a bridge between Lunark and the cursed creation lurking within him.

That was when Frankenstein viciously gritted his teeth so hard it was a wonder they were still intact.

At the same time, he felt how his heart was heaving as if it were trying to shatter his ribs.

“...Shut up.”

He even had to mumble to himself in order to ignore the ache in his heart, much more biting than usual.

Now that his mind was redirected to the Dark Spear, he was reminded of how he did not chug the tonic yet.

With no reason to wait, he raised his shivering hands towards the flask, poised in waiting for his grip.

(next chapter)

Frankie noooo! Don’t drink it!!!!!

And now begins the highlight of the highlight chapters of this fic. It’s always a challenge to plot and compose battle scenes, but I shall do my best for the grande finale of my work! Wish me luck, and please stay tuned!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #wolfsbane

3 notes · View notes

skzsauce01 · 5 years ago

Text

3.14

Description: March 14 is both White Day and Pi Day. You're a sucker for puns, so obviously Felix has to make you a pie.

Warning: none

Word Count: 2,116

Pairing: fem!reader x Felix

Contrary to what his friends thought, Felix is not a complete idiot. Sure, he might be failing calculus, but he knows your handwriting like he knows the Pythagorean Theorem.

He knows it very well.

The note attached to the box of chocolates is not signed, but the sharp curves of your characters are a dead giveaway. He can't lie; seeing the store-bought box makes his heart sink. He hoped you had some semblance of romantic feelings for him, but he never saw an inkling. However, when he pulls off the white ribbon, he is ecstatic to see that his previous assumptions were wrong: the heart-shaped chocolate inside is hand decorated with lines of icing and carefully dotted with pink sprinkles, which means you are actually into him. He is smiling so much. He yells down the hallway filled with tired teenagers who couldn't care less about how he has a Valentine.

“My crush likes me back!” he shouts, earning him a few grossed-out looks.

He leaves the chocolate in his locker, but he tucks the note-- Happy Valentine's Day, Felix <3-- into his calculus textbook and thinks of less than 3's all the way to class.

However, last month's delight is now this month's dilemma. He almost forgets about White Day until Chan asks him what he is going to give you in return. His nervous laugh gets a sympathetic look and a well-intended but not helpful suggestion to buy an expensive box of chocolate. The two main problems with Chan's idea is that Felix has limited funds and anything store-bought just doesn’t show off what a great boyfriend he can potentially be.

Never mind that he doesn't even know when White Day is exactly.

Google tells him that it's on March 14. Felix has been stuck doing math for multiple hours per day, so his first thought is That's Pi Day.

Then it hits him.

He'll make you a pie. A pie so beautiful and delicious that it will make the relationship official. Instagram official.

He's jittery during the entire day. He has only a couple days to make sure his plan goes smoothly. The pie has to be perfect.

After school, Felix takes the bus to the grocery store and searches up apple pie recipes on the way there. His eyes grow wide as soon as he realizes how much work he has to do. To motivate himself, he opens the front cover of his calculus textbook and rereads your handwritten note from last month. This will all be worth it, he tells himself.

When he arrives at the grocery store, he heads straight to the produce section. Each recipe recommended different kinds of apples, so screw it; you are going to get an everything apple pie. Like an everything bagel, but apple pie.

Back at home, he has Chan in a Discord call with him as he dices up apples and cuts strips of pie dough. Chan's not doing much, just reading aloud pie making tips that Felix has seen over thirty times while looking up recipes. Felix tunes him out at what has to be the fifth mention of squeezing lemon juice on top of the chopped apples to prevent browning.

"I know already. I know what I'm doing," Felix says. "Why are you so worried anyway?"

Chan's voice is shrill and tinny as he practically screeches out, "Because you've never made a pie before, and you only have until tomorrow to get it done!"

"High risk, high reward?"

"That's not how it works!" There's a sigh from Chan's end. "Why did you choose pie? Chocolate would have been fine, too."

He considered just melting down and molding chocolate for your White Day gift. However, the homemade chocolate you gave him on Valentine's Day was so elegant and elaborate, a normal gift wouldn't suffice.

White Day also happens to be on Pi Day, and Felix knows how much you love a good math pun and a good apple pie. Hence why he is spending the night before White Day baking.

He tosses the diced fruit with the apple pie spice he picked up at the grocery store.The apple-and-spice mixture goes into the store-bought pie crust soon after, and then Felix searches up how to make a lattice.

Actually, why doesn't he put Chan to work?

"Chan, how do I make a lattice?" he asks, using the same tone he would when talking to Siri.

Chan grumbles, protesting that he's not his personal AI assistant, but Felix can hear him typing away. While Chan reads off a list of instructions and sends him video links, Felix wipes his flour-dusted fingers on his no-longer-white apron and checks his phone for messages from you. There's nothing new; the latest message in the chat between the two of you is still a picture of question 19 of his calc book with a big question mark drawn on. He sees that you haven't even seen the message yet, so you must be busy.

Felix picks up the strips of dough and follows Chan's instructions. It's easier than he expected, but the design still looks off.

Oh well. It's not too late to start over without ruining the entire design.

"Did it turn out okay?" Chan asks, breaking Felix out of his thoughts.

"It's… not bad," is the best answer he can give. He takes a picture and sends it to his friend.

Chan laughs at the crooked placements and the less-than-stellar job Felix has done at cutting the strips. "I can tell it's a lattice at least. Is it baking yet?"

"You're more anxious than I am," he remarks as he sticks the pie into the preheated oven.

"Well, someone has to be! It's your first White Day together! It has to go well."

"Which is why I'm making an apple pie for her!" Felix shouts. He realizes how loud it was and apologizes. "I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's fine. I was being annoying, wasn't I?"

He says, "Yes," with no hesitation, and Chan laughs.

"She's your first girlfriend, and you're pretty much my little brother. I have good reason to be stressed out for you," he explains. Felix hears him typing again, and he has a feeling he's about to receive more unsolicited advice. "Anyway, did you put an egg wash on it? All these recipes are saying something about an egg wash."

"Chan."

"Right," he sighs. "I'll stop."

They switch topics to something not pie related. Felix complains about not understanding calculus, while Chan groans about how long his statistics problems take him. After a heated debate on whether calculus or statistics is harder, Felix phone buzzes with a message from you.

When he checks it, he sees a picture of your notes with a bright red circle drawn around a section labeled, "Partial Sum Decomp. When the Denominator's Power is Greater than 2."

His phone buzzes again, and a new message from you reads, "I gotchu babe."

He is so grateful that you pay attention in class. He sends back a heart emoji as Chan calls out, "You still there?"

"Sorry. Y/N texted me," he says as he reads another message from you.

Y/N <3: Wanna do homework together?

Me: Sure

Felix puts his phone on the counter and tells Chan the news. "I'm going to do homework with Y/N now. See you tomorrow?"

He can hear Chan smiling. "Have fun. Don't spoil the surprise."

"Stop projecting your worries onto me."

Before Chan can defend himself, Felix ends the call and starts a new one with you. He quickly gets a chat message that just reads, "Don't call me out like this >:(."

You answer the Discord call. "Hey."

Your voice is clear and sweet, a stark contrast to Chan's anxious ramblings. Felix smiles. The lilting in your voice is soothing, and he can tell you just woke up from a power nap based off of your soft tone.

"Hi," he says back. "Sleep well?"

There's a brief pause as you wake your brain up to formulate an answer. You reply, "I slept for three hours straight, but I also dreamt that I got a 47 on yesterday’s test."

He laughs because your dream is going to be his reality. "You'll be alright. You know what's going on."

"But the last question!" The sleepiness is replaced by fiery passion, and he hears the unmistakable sound of you slamming a palm against a table.

He lets you vent again and checks the pie in the oven. He thinks it's turning out well? The apples are bubbling a bit, and the crust looks more brown. He's never made one before; how can he tell? There's only a few more minutes left to bake it for.

With you still talking and oblivious to the world, he rushes to his room and grabs his textbook with his homework tucked inside. Just as he's back at the counter, you finish ranting.

"... I checked three times! Seungmin said he got something completely different! I think I got it wrong," you say.

"You'll be alright," he repeats. He knows he sounds like he doesn't care, but you truly will be alright. The last quiz you got a 92 with only half an hour of studying. He's also very worried about the pie because it is bubbling over now. "You studied for five hours."

"Seungmin has the highest grade!" Before he can retort that Seungmin isn't that smart, you let out a frustrated sigh. "Never mind that. Let's just do homework. I finished up to 25."

"Uh, okay." The apple pie won't stop bubbling, and he grabs a pair of oven mitts. He cracks open the oven door, and a blast of steam hits his face. "I'll catch up, and you can…" He trails off, trying to come up with an idea while taking out the pie. At the very least, it smells good.

"I can give you all the answers?" you joke.

"That will be great," Felix replies. He sets the pie down on the counter with a heavy thud. He then starts furiously typing into Google, "bubbling pie."

"What happened?" you ask, your voice laced with concern. "Did something happen?"

He's scanning blocks of text, so he carelessly answers, "I don't know if I messed up your pie or not since it's spilling over."

"My pie?"

His mouth drops open after realizing what came out of it. He now has two options: admit defeat and tell you the truth or lie to you and potentially make things worse.

He decides to go with the former. He presses a small section of the lattice with his index finger and watches it sink into the filling. Goodbye, hard work. He managed to screw up just like Chan predicted with a single sentence. He doesn't want to lie to you about something as silly as this. You know when he's lying anyway.

"It was supposed to be a secret," he quietly says. "It was your White Day present."

There's a moment of silence and then a burst of laughter from you. "Felix, you made me a pie? But you never baked before!" There's a softer laugh, and you sigh, "That's so sweet of you. Thank you."

His face feels as hot as the oven. The lattice section starts breaking off. "I wanted to do something special. And I know you like your puns."

"Pun?"

So, you forgot. With a grin, he says, "It's Pi Day tomorrow, too."

"Felix Lee, you're an amazing boyfriend," you declare. "I will gladly accept your pie."

He quickly yanks his finger out. "Really? Chan said it looked kind of bad though."

"You made it! Of course I'm going to take it. Felix, I will take whatever you make, no matter how horrible it looks."

He is so proud. And a little offended that you actually think his baking is hideous. He snaps a picture of the finished pie, which has cooled down a bit and stopped bubbling like a witch cauldron, and sends it to you.

He hears the notification sound from your end of the call and your nails clicking against the screen of your phone not long after. After a few seconds of waiting for the picture to load, he hears you laugh.

He loves your laugh so much, but maybe not in this scenario.

"Oh my goodness. Chan was not kidding when he said it looked bad!"

"It's not that bad!" he protests. "You said you would take it no matter what!"

The laughter dies down, but there's still a playfulness to your words. "I know, I know. You're the best, babe."

"Mmmnh. Anyway, question 19?” he asks cheekily.

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #felix lee #felix #20200313

83 notes · View notes